The Case of the Neglectful Fireman
by kaleen1212
Summary: Arson, fire, blackmail and murder! Perry Mason must unravel them all if he is keep Seth Palmer from the death penalty. Della Street and Paul Drake join him in his quest to save his client.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Perry Mason. He is the creation of Erle Stanley Gardner. I simply borrowed him for the purpose of telling this story. Neither am I a lawyer. In fact, I have no legal training so I am sure there are plenty of legal mistakes. Please take this fan fiction for the purpose it is intended … pure entertainment.

Keep in mind I write all stories in the present not when the shows aired on television. I prefer … shall we say the modern conveniences. It adds a completely new dimension to the story. I have written many cross over stories for Perry Mason, combining him with the San Francisco Detective Chief Robert T. Ironside. If you have not already guessed, I am a big Raymond Burr fan. I thought it was about time I let Perry solve a case without the Ironman on Wheels.

If you have never read my crossovers, they all follow a timeline. All of them, including this story are written to also stand-alone. However, occasionally there may be statements that refers back to another story.

Thanks for your interest and I hope you enjoy the story.

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 01

1.1

Seth Palmer took another letter out of his mail box at the firehall. It was the third one within a month. Seth did not have to open it to know what was in it. He had been hoping that it was all just a bad dream. However, he knew that ignoring the problem would not make it go away. On the other hand, he didn't know what to do.

Sooner or later he was going to have to respond to the blackmailer. Why were cameras ever put in cell phones? If he could only get his hands on the idiot who came up with that idea.

The video had been emailed to him. That night he had been at the table with his fellow fireman, Seth's smartphone beeped, indicating a new message. Seth did not recognize the email address. He had been losing all evening at the table playing poker with his buddies. They were coming down to the end of their twenty four hour shift. It had been quiet at the station. There had been no fires.

"Anti up," Monte Skinner said.

"Deal me out," Seth told Monte. He got up, left the table and headed downstairs He stood beside the fire truck he usually rode. He pulled out his smartphone and opened the email program. The email address read firecoward12 . The address was not in his address book. He noticed there was a video attached to the email. Seth pushed the link. A second later the video came up on the screen of the phone. He recognized the scene immediately. It was the Claymore Apartment building fire. Palmer's stomach immediately went sour. His hands began to show perspiration. His head spinned. No! Not that particular fire! He did not want relive that day again.

It had been his first fire. He would never forget it, although he had tried everyday for the last five years. It had been eating away at him to the point of causing nightmares. In fact it had been the same reoccurring dream that materialized two, sometimes three days a week. Every time it was the same and he ended up waking to the sound of his own screaming. It was bad enough he had to live with knowing what he did. It was even worse that he got no peace when he closed his eyes at night.

One week after he received the video, Seth received another email. This time there was no video attached to the email. It contain only the words 'Time to pay the piper'. Palmer did not know what to think. Was this some kind of sick joke? Who could have taken that video? He kept running that day over in his mind. He could only come to the one conclusion that to him was unthinkable ... it had to be another fireman. There could be no other explanation.

Since that second email, three letters had been placed in his mail at the station. Each time the author threaten to expose him. The video would be turned over to the Los Angeles Times unless he paid a sum of one hundred thousand dollars.

How would anyone have any idea that he had that kind of money. Palmer had come to LA from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania where his father had won five hundred thousand dollars in the lottery. When his father died, he left Seth's step-mother three hundred thousand dollars, along with the house. Seth inherited one hundred fifty thousand, his father having spent the rest.

Palmer had not gotten along with his step-mother. It was difficult to like someone who detested you.

He left the only home he had ever known and joined his childhood friend, Monte Skinner. Monte had talked him in to going back to school. Eventually Seth followed Monte into the fire fighting business.

After his first terrifying experience, he thought he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Palmer lived every day of his life with guilt and fear, fear of reacting the same way when the next fire broke out. That was not to be the case. After getting over the jitters, he forgot his fear and performed as any good fire fighter did. From that day on Seth Palmer performed his job admirably and even had been decorated on five occasions.

He had grown to love his job. He could not imagine doing anything else. But now the job he loved was in jeopardy. He had to find someway to deal with the blackmailer. He lost his mother and then his father. He had no other family. His family had become his fellow fire fighters. He could not lose the only thing in his life that meant anything to him.

"Seth! Seth!" shouted Monte. "Come on, man! You are holding up the game and it is only two hours to quitting time."

"Alright, I'm coming." Seth put his smartphone back in his pocket and headed back to the game.

1.2

"Perry, we are not leaving this office until the mail is finished. It is so far behind I just cannot let you put it off." Della scolded he boss.

"Della, anything that was of importance has already been handled by David Gideon. What appointments do we have on the calendar today?" Perry asked.

"We have a gentleman by the name of Seth Palmer at one o'clock. Mr. Rogan will be here at two to have you go over the sale of the one division of his corporation. Let me see ... Edward Bronson wants to see you regarding defending him against an embezzlement charge. The others are routine."

"I thought I told you to turn Rogan over to Taylor and Jones. They handle divorce cases. I will handle the corporation's legal problems. The money is too good to turn down ... if it is corporation business, which I doubt. Jan is divorcing him. My guess is he is going to try to talk me into handling his divorce and I am not interested in doing that. I hate handling warring couples."

"I will head him off then if it is his divorce but I assume you will see him if it is not." Della sat on the edge of Perry's desk.

"Just make sure it is not the divorce," Perry said. "What about Seth... what did you say his last name was?"

"Palmer, Seth Palmer," Della said.

"What does he want to see me about?"

"He is a fireman. He said he needs some advice on something a friend received. He said his friend is being harassed."

"The old I have a friend who needs advice." Perry shook his head. "Sounds like Mr. Palmer is in trouble. Talk to him before you bring him in the office. If you think he is indeed in trouble then bring him in. But if you think he really is here for a friend then tell him to come back with the friend."

"In the meantime ..." Perry reached up and took Della's hand. "Come here." He stood up and gently pulled Della off of his desk. Pulling her close to him, Perry bent down and brushed his lips against hers. Feeling her respond, he pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Della gently pushed Perry away. "We agreed not to do this during office hours."

"You agreed, not me," Perry breathed heavily.

"The mail, Chief. Then we go to lunch."

Perry frowned. "The mail can wait one more day. We have not spent hardly any time alone in a while. Why don't we go over to my apartment. We can be back for the afternoon appointments." He reached for her again but she dodged him and moved to thr front of his desk.

"The mail, Mr. Mason. And we have not spent time together because you took a case in Washington D.C. defending Jim Whitmore."

"Was I supposed to turn down the president of the United States?"

Della laughed. "It was not the president you could not refuse, it was your brother."

Perry smiled. "Bob is a very persuasive man. Besides look at all the business it has brought us. Gertie can not keep up with the phones."

"Which reminds me, Perry. You should either give her a bonus or a raise. She has gone above and beyond for this office between handling things while we were in Washington and that phone has been glued to her ear since we got back."

"You are the head of this office. If you think she should have a raise, then give her one. At the same time give yourself a raise."

"Perry, you just gave me a raise three months ago."

Mason walked around the desk. "Della, I could give you a raise every day of the week it still would not be enough. Not for what you do for me in this office. Without you I wouldn't have an office or a practice for that matter."

Della Street looked up at her boss. She smiled and said, "For which you pay me more than any other confidential secretary in the city of Los Angeles."

"You are much more then a secretary to me, Della. You must know I would do anything for you ... anything."

"Anything?" Della asked.

"Anything," Perry replied, smiling with the twinkle in his eye.

"I am glad to hear that Mr Mason. There is something you can do for me."

Perry Mason smiled, his dimples prominent down both sides of his jaw. "You just name it, Della."

Della picked up a handful of mail from his desk. She smiled at him and said, "you said anything."

"I walked right into that one." Perry chuckled. He strolled around his desk, sat down in his chair and said, "Alright Miss Street, but you could have had a trip to Paris."

"I'll settle for a quiet lunch for two when this mail is finished." Della picked up the first envelope.

"It's a date. Let's get started. The sooner we get it done, the more time will have together for lunch," Perry plunged into what he knew would be a very boring morning.

1.3

Monte Skinner reached in to his mailbox. He had not checked it since he came into work twenty-four hours earlier. In fact, he did not want to check it. Would there be another one of those letters in it? Someone was trying to blackmail Skinner and the information he had could never become public. If it did, he would not only lose his job, he would be serving time in a prison somewhere. No, Monte simply had to find out who was blackmailing him and find a way to stop him.

He remembered that fateful day so long ago when two of his fellow firefighters joined him in Charlie's Bar. That night they made the proposal to him that would change the course of his life. It had made him a very rich man. All five of the men involved had very large overseas bank accounts.

Monte had developed ulcers over the past five years. He worried constantly about being exposed. He had been hospitalized once because the ulcer had started bleeding into his stomach. After surgery and six weeks off from work, he had returned to the firehouse. One would think it would have been enough to end their illegal dealing. But no, the money was more temptation than he could resist. After all, he already had enough money to put both of his sons through college and then some.

His wife had expensive taste and did not seem to realize that they could not afford the type of life style she wanted to live. He had been devastated to find out she had been carrying on an affair with a rich playboy. Expensive things began showing up in their house … things Monte knew she did not have the money to purchase. She was a stay at home mom and had no source of income other than his fireman's paycheck.

Joyce Skinner announced that she would be going home to Chicago to visit her sick sister. Since there was no way Monte could object to the purpose, he decided to let her go without complaint. After putting the boys to bed, Monte went quietly back down the stair. Joyce was on the phone. She was planning her rendezvous with the man who had become her lover.

Monte confronted her and they had a terrible fight. The only thing that kept them together was the boys. The problem was Monte loved Joyce even more than he did the day he married her. He promised her he would be a better provider. He had been offered something that would mean more money for him, her and the boys.

It was then that Monte had accepted Mitch Donaldson and Denny Boulder's proposal. He knew it was wrong. It did not just border on criminal, it was criminal and he knew it. He could not help himself. He could not lose Joyce. With Joyce would go the boys, if she left him. So, he became involved in a scheme that he would never forgive himself but could not stop.

Then the letters started appearing in his mailbox. The demands for money began. He had already paid several times and still the blackmailer demanded more. The sad thing was he had no choice but to keep paying. Otherwise, his life could come crumbling down around him.

Denny Boulder came up behind him. "So you are getting them too?"

Monte jerked and turned swiftly. "Getting what?" He said as he stuffed the letter into his pocket.

"Blackmail, Monte. Do not deny it. I am getting them too. So are Mitch, Burt and Marcus. The question is what are we all going to do about it?"

"I don't know. I just keep paying him. I don't know what else to do," Monte said, lowering his head.

"We are meeting in the café across the street. We have to discuss it and come up with a solution. All of us have been paying whoever is doing this and if we don't stop, all of the money will be gone."

"Maybe it is for the best. My stomach is acting up again. The pain has been becoming unbearable. When the money is gone, then maybe I will have some peace again."

"You're dreaming, Monte. Whoever is doing this will force us to keep going and we will be turning over all the money to him. He has to be stopped."

"How?"

"That is what we are going to discuss at the café. First, we have to find out who is doing it and then put a stop to it. Are you going to join us?" Denny asked.

Monte looked at his friend and co-worker. "Yes, I'm joining you."

1.4

Perry watched Della. She was eating a salad and seemed to be enjoying it. Perry had opted for a ham and cheese on rye. Della had insisted on soft drinks. She told him she did not want the clients smelling alcohol on their breath when they came in this afternoon. "You know I would have bought you anything you wanted for lunch." He smiled at her that smile that was reserved for her only.

"I am having what I want, Perry," she responded.

"I like a salad too but as a side. You need something more substantial," he insisted.

"Not if I am to watch my waistline."

Perry smiled. "There is nothing wrong with your waistline … and I watch it enough for both of us."

"You won't be if it grows considerably."

"Della, it would make no difference to me if you were chubby and plump. I would love you anyway," he said grinning.

"Well, I would not love me so if you don't mind, I'll watch what I eat, especially since you are always feeding me," she said with a smile.

Perry wanted nothing more than to take a hold of her hand and kiss it but that was something they both refrained from in public. They were in the gossip columns enough as it was. Therefore, the lawyer had to be content with looking at his beautiful lunch companion.

"Perry, we should get back to the office. Seth Palmer will be arriving shortly."

Mason called for the waitress. She finished writing their dinner bill and handed it to him. Deanne loved waiting on the handsome couple. Mr. Mason was always pleasant and he was a big tipper. Not to mention, he was a very handsome man. If his secretary had any sense at all, she would latch on to him before some other woman did. He would not be single long if the women in Los Angeles had their way.

Mason pulled out his wallet. He removed enough to cover the bill and added a twenty five percent tip. He handed it back to Deanne, smiled and said, "Thanks, everything was just fine." He took Della by the elbow and lawyer headed back to the office.

1.5

"Any calls, Gertie?" Mason said as he and Della walked into the office.

"The phone has not quit ringing, Mr. Mason. It has not stopped since you and Miss Street got back from Washington. I put several messages on Miss Street's desk that I think you should take a look at." The phone rang again. Gertie picked it up and said, Perry Mason's office, may I help you."

Perry nodded at Della and they both went into his office. "Della, can you make some coffee?"

"Coming up, Chief." Della picked up the coffee pot and disappeared. A few minutes later Perry could smell coffee brewing. Perry certainly could make his own coffee but he much preferred Della's.

Della came back into the office with a cup of coffee and set it down in front of Mason. The phone on his desk rang. Della picked it up. "Yes, Gertie."

"Miss Street, Mr. Palmer is here for his appointment with Mr. Mason," Gertie said.

"I'll be right out, Gertie. Have him sit down." Della left her boss's office and went out into her office. "Mr. Palmer, I am Della Street, Mr. Mason's confidential secretary. Could you tell me why you would like to see Mr. Mason?" Della scrutinized the young man. He was at least six feet tall with brown hair, of which a lock lay across his forehead. He appeared to be very nervous and Della noticed his palms were sweating.

"I have a friend that may be in a lot of trouble. I would like to see Mr. Mason for some advice for him," Palmer told her.

"Mr. Mason ordinarily prefers the individual seeking the advice come into his office. He does not care for relaying advice through a third party," Della told him.

"Do you mean that Mr. Mason will not see me?" Seth asked.

"I did not say that, Mr. Palmer. Simply that Mr. Mason likes to talk face to face with the people he gives advice to." Della continued watching him. His face took on a look of panic. Della was certain this young man was not here for anyone but himself. "If you will wait here, I will talk to Mr. Mason and find out if he will see you under the circumstances. Please wait right here."

Della opened the door to Mason's office, walked in and shut it. "Well, Della, what do you think?"

"He's scared Perry. He says he is here for someone else but I would bet a year's pay that he is in some kind of trouble. I think you should see him."

"Alright, Della. Bring him in." Mason watched as Della disappeared from his office. He depended on Della's intuition. It had become invaluable over the years. If she thought the young man was in trouble, then the young man was in trouble.

A moment later, the door opened and Della walked in with Seth Palmer. Mr. Palmer, this is Mr. Mason."

Perry stood up behind his desk and offered his hand across it. Palmer shook hands with the lawyer and said. "Yes, I know who Mr. Mason is. His picture has been in the papers all over the country."

"Sit down, Mr. Palmer and tell me what I can do for you," Mason said with a smile to set his guest at ease.

Palmer sat down and prepared to tell this man something he had kept to himself for five years.


	2. Chapter 2

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 02

2.1

Palmer looked up at the attorney. What was he doing here? How could he tell this man what he had kept to himself for so many years? It was a painful memory.

The lawyer's face was a picture of concentration. Palmer glanced over at Della Street. Why was she still in the room? Mason sensed his unease. "Miss Street is my confidential secretary. Anything you say in front of her is no different from saying it front of me. Please start when you are ready."

"I have a friend in the fire department that has a problem. He is being blackmailed." Mason said nothing as he watched and assessed his client. He waited for Palmer to continue.

"Something happened about five years ago. We were fighting an apartment complex fire. It was a particularly bad one."

"Was that the one over on Gordon Street?" Mason asked.

"Yes sir, that's the one."

"Go on," Mason encouraged him.

"We were assigned to the same truck. Our job was to clear the fifth and sixth floors. This was my friend's first fire."

"Then he just started working for the fire department?" Mason asked.

"That is correct. The fire was raging all around us. We had been knocking on doors and helping people get out. When we arrived at the last apartment, a portion of the ceiling above us caved in, trapping one man under the debris. I left to lead the others out and my partner stayed to help the one that was trapped. More of the ceiling collapsed and he panicked." Tears appeared in Palmer's eyes.

"He ran from the scene?" Perry guessed. Mason already knew it was not the partner that had left the man behind. He had to get his client to tell him everything if he was to help him. "How long has your friend been fighting fires?"

"About ten years." Seth said, having regained his composure.

"And how long have you been a firefighter?" Perry asked.

Without thinking, Seth said, "Five years." Immediately after he had said it, he realized the impact of his revelation. He looked away from Mason. The number of years he said his partner had been a firefighter was too many and he placed himself as a rookie on the scene.

"Mister Palmer, in order to help you I need to know everything. You need to be completely honest with me. Nothing you say will leave this room. Who exactly am I advising, you or your friend?" Perry said gently.

Palmer looked down. He could not look the lawyer in the eye. His face was flushed with embarrassment. Mason said nothing, giving his client the time he needed. After a long silence, Palmer finally said, "Me"

"You ran from the scene?" Mason continued in a gentle voice.

Still looking down, Seth said, "Yes, I ran from the scene. I have lived with that shame for five years."

"Go on. What happened to the man you left behind?" Mason asked.

"He was found among the dead," Palmer said so softly that Mason had to strain to hear him.

"Is that what you are being blackmailed for?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason. I received an email with a video attachment. It was the Claymore Apartment fire. It showed me running from the scene, leaving the man behind."

"What did you do after you left him?" Mason asked.

"I just ran. When I finally stopped running, I realize what I had done. I turned back, climbed the stairs and went back. The man was gone. I could not believe it but he was gone."

"Gone? But how? You said he was covered in debris. How could he possibly walk away?" Mason asked.

"I don't know. All I know is he was gone when I got back," Seth replied.

"Do you have any idea who took the video?"

"No Mr. Mason but then I was so terrified, I would not have noticed Godzilla if he had been standing in that hall."

"Were you and your partner … what was his name?

"Ted Jacoby."

"Were you the only fireman on that floor?"

"As far as I know. We were the only ones assigned to that floor," Seth responded.

"And which floor did this take place, the fifth or the sixth?"

"Actually it started on the seventh floor."

"Do you still have the video?" Mason asked.

"Yes, it is on my smart phone."

"Della, give Mr. Palmer our email address. Mr. Palmer, send that video to me, please. Also, I want the written letters you have received. Now, what has the blackmailer demanded?"

"One hundred thousand dollars but he hasn't given me any instructions." Seth Palmer eyes finally met Perry Mason's. "Mr. Mason, will you help me?"

Mason knew soon after their conversation had started that he would take the case. There was only one way to deal with a blackmailer. "Yes, Seth. I will help you. The first thing you are going to do is refuse to pay any blackmail."

"But if I don't he will reveal what I did that day. I can't lose my job. This is the only thing I know how to do. It is the only thing I want to do," Palmer said.

"You leave that to me. Della, get Paul on the phone. Ask him to come in here."

"Della picked up the receiver and dialed the Drake Detective agency. "If Mr. Drake is available, Mr. Mason would like him to come to his office … thank you, I'll tell him." Della hung up the phone. "Paul will be down in a minute."

"Seth, do you have any money on you?" Perry asked.

Palmer pulled out his wallet. He pulled out twenty five one hundred dollar bills. "Will this be enough for now?"

"That will be fine," Mason assured him. He handed the money to his secretary. "Della, give Mr. Palmer a receipt for the money."

Paul's code knock sounded on the door. Della walked over and opened it. Paul stepped inside, grinned and said, "Hello, beautiful. What's up?"

"Come on in Paul," Perry called out. "This is Paul Drake of the Drake Detective Agency. Paul, this is Seth Palmer." The two men shook hands. Perry then summarized everything that Seth had told him. He then turned to Palmer. "Please email that video before you leave and the letters if you have them with you. If not, go home and get them and give them to Della. When you receive the next contact from the blackmailer, call me immediately. Do not pay any blackmail. Is that clear?" Mason asked him directly.

"Yes sir, that is clear."

"If you need to contact me after office hours, call the Drake Detective Agency. They always know where to reach me. Now go home and leave this to me."

"Thank you Mr. Mason." Seth Palmer got up and followed Della out the door.

Paul sat down in his favorite chair, turned sideways, and threw his leg up over the arm of the chair. "Where do you want me to start Perry?"

"We need to find out who is blackmailing Palmer. Get a list of every fireman that was on duty at that fire. Check them all out. Also, find out whom the man was that Palmer left at the scene. I want him checked out as well. This doesn't pass the smell test. How could a man that was covered in debris … probably injured, get up and walk away? There is a strong possibility that one of the fireman on duty that day took that film and is blackmailing Seth Palmer."

"Alright, Perry. What are you going to do?" Paul asked.

"After I get a look at that video, Della and I are going to go over to the Claymore Apartment Complex and take a look at where that video was recorded."

Paul got up out of the chair. "Okay, pal. I'll call you as soon as I have something." Drake left by the same door he had entered.

2.2

Earlier …

Monte Skinner walked into the cafe with Denny Boulder. Boulder led him to the back of the small establishment where Bert Fielder, Mitch Donaldson and Marcus Shepherd sat at a secluded table. Only one chair was empty. Boulder walked back toward the front of the cafe, grabbed a chair from another table and returned to his fellow firefighters.

"I brought Monte along as this concerns him as well. He is being blackmailed like the rest of us."

"Well then that brings it full circle, doesn't it? Everyone one involved in this little business venture is now being blackmailed. Which one of you is the blabbermouth?" Bert Fields groused at the others.

"Knock it off Bert!" Mitch Donaldson said. "You don't know that anyone talked. We are here to decide what we are going to do. Pointing fingers is not going to get us anywhere."

"He's right, Bert," Marcus said. "Let's try to find a way to stop this."

"You have to know who before you can even begin to stop it," Monte said.

"And that is exactly what we have to find out." Marcus Shepherd took a sip of his coffee.

"Have any of you noticed anyone taking a particular interest in you lately? Denny asked them. No one responded.

"There is something I have noticed," Bert said.

"What?" Boulder asked.

"Monte's little playmate ... has been mighty nervous lately. You don't suppose he is worried about one of us finding him out, do you?"

"That is ridiculous!" Monte complained. "Seth would never blackmail anyone. He would have come to me. He would more likely to turn us in then to blackmail us."

"Well I say he needs to be checked out." Fielder was determined to press the issue.

Denny Boulder put his hand up. "Everyone just calm down. This is not doing any of us any good. It will not hurt to check him out, Monte. I don't think he's involved but it is better to be safe than sorry."

"I'll check him out myself," Bert Fielder said.

"The hell you will!" Monte tried to keep his voice down. "I'll do the checking."

"You were too close to the situation," Fielder complained.

"He's right, Monte," Denny told him. "Let Bert check him out. We have to trust each other. Has anyone else noticed anything?"

"Once we find this guy, what are we going to do with him?" Asked Marcus, not answering Denny's question.

"There is only one thing we can do," said Bert.

"He will have to be silenced." Denny said.

Mitch could not believe his ears. "You can't be talking about murder! I will have no part in murder."

"Would you rather spend the rest of your life burning down buildings so someone else can collect the money?" Bert said.

"There has to be another way. Murder is unacceptable. You can not be serious," Mitch said.

"We are getting ahead of ourselves. We have to find out who is doing it before we can decide what to do about it," Denny said.

""How do we find him?" Monte asked.

"One of us will hear from the blackmailer soon. When we do, we will meet again. We are going to be watching the dropoff. We will find out who it is. Then we can decide what to do. In the meantime, I think we better start checking out the rest of the guys at the station.

2.3

Della and Perry walked into the Claymore Apartment Complex. "I wonder why this is not locked," Perry said. "Look, there is a button to buzz each occupant. Yet the front door is not locked."

Mason opened the door and waited for Della to enter in front of him. Once inside the lawyer looked around for the elevator. When he spotted it, he took Della by the elbow and led her toward it. Mason pushed the button for the sixth floor. When the door opened, he motioned for Della to follow him.

Perry and Della headed to the end of the hall where the ceiling had collapsed that fateful day five years ago. Both looked around.

"We need to have Paul check on who lived in this apartment. It could have been very easy for someone to use their cell phone without Palmer knowing," Della said

"Della, did you bring that video with you?"

"Yes, I did," she answered. She pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it to Perry.

Mason looked at the small keys on the phone and handed it back to her. "Do you really expect me to operate that thing with these paws?" He said raising his hands.

Della laughed. "You would if you wanted to but I will do it for you." Taking only a moment, Della found the video and handed thre phone back to her employer. They both huddled close together and began watching the video.

Perry grinned and then looked at his beautiful secretary. "How am I supposed to keep my mind on this video with you this close to me and your perfume filling my head?"

Della smiled. "You will just have to control yourself, counselor."

"I will if you will," he said as he moved closer to Della. He smiled when he felt her react to his body coming in contact with hers.

Both of them watched as Seth Palmer panicked and left the scene of the fire. Perry strained his eyes attempting to see the man lying in the debris. "I just can't see his face."

"I was wrong. This video was not taken from that apartment," Della said.

Perry looked toward the stairs. "You are right, Della. It was taken from right over there." Perry pointed at the door leading to the stairs.

"But there would have been no where for the blackmailer to conceal his presence," Della pointed out.

"Not as the door stands right now. But if that door was open and since they were evacuating the building, which is probably the case, the blackmailer could have hidden behind the open door as it was swung toward the wall."

Della stepped over to the door and opened it. "Perry, what about Seth's partner? He went out that door. He could have sent those people on their way and returned to make that video."

"We should be able to check that. What do you say we start knocking on doors?" Perry suggested. He glanced down the staircase. Out of nowhere, a man came from down the hall. Running flat out, he rammed into Perry from behind. Normally, anyone that rammed into Perry Mason would have discovered slamming into the big man was much like running into a brick wall. Mason, however had his back turned and certainly was not expecting to be tackled as if he were a halfback being hit by the opposing linebacker.

"Perry!" Della shouted, horrified as Perry went over the railing. He grabbed the overhang and held on with one hand. His quick action prevented him from falling an entire floor downward. He watched as the man who had knocked him over the side, ran down the stairs never looking back.

Della ran to the first door and pounded. "Help!"

The door opened and a man appeared. Della grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the stairs. "Please, we need your help!"

The man followed Della to the stairs. When he saw Perry hanging over the side, he reached over and shouted, "Give me your hand!"

Perry let go of the ledge with one hand and reached up as far as he could. The man grabbed his wrist. Bracing his own body against the railing, he pulled. Once Mason was confident his rescuer had a good grip on him, he reached up with his other hand and the man grabbed that wrist. Within a couple minutes, he had pulled Mason back to safety.

Both men sat on the floor out of breath. "You want to tell me how you managed to fall over that railing? The man asked.

"I was shoved from behind," Perry answered.

The man put his hand out, "My name is Bradford Stroud."

Mason accepted his hand and shook it. "Mason," he said.

"I thought you looked familiar. You are Perry Mason, the attorney."

"That's right." Perry got up and than helped the man to his feet. Della was at his side in an instant. He put his arm around her. "I am alright, Della." He turned to Stroud and said. "Thank you, Mr. Stroud. It was a good thing you were home."

"Forget it, Mr. Mason. Just remember this if I ever need a lawyer." He laughed. "Would you like to come in for a drink? I sure could use one."

"I think we will take you up on that," Perry answered. "Oh, this is my secretary, Della Street."

"Yes, I have seen her picture in the paper, along side you." Stroud led them into his apartment. He walked over to the bar and pulled out three glasses. "What's your poison, Mr. Mason?"

"Bourbon," he answered. "Same for Miss Street."

Bradford Stroud poured three glasses of bourbon. He brought them over to Perry and Della. "Sit down. Make yourselves comfortable. Tell me what brings a big time lawyer here to this complex." He took a sip of his own bourbon.

"We are on a case. Maybe you can help us," Perry said. "There was a fire here about five years ago."

"Believe me, I will never forget that one. Had so much smoke damage, I had to replace all of the furniture in this place."

"Were you here the night of the fire?" Della asked him.

"Yes. I did not know anything about it until a fireman pounded on my door telling me to get out. The fire started right above me on the seventh floor but it was raging in the hall when I opened the door. I still cannot believe that I could not smell it"

"There was a man that was trapped under debris when the ceiling collapsed right outside your apartment. Did you see him?" Perry asked.

"Yes, I was there when it happened. I didn't know the man's name but he lived on this floor."

"Can you tell us what happened after the ceiling collapsed," Perry asked.

"There is not much to tell. One of the firemen stayed behind to help the poor man and the other led us down the stairway."

"Then he led you out of the building?"

"I can't be sure. You see we were met by several other firemen. They were all dressed the same and they had on oxygen masks. Someone led us out but I could not be sure it was the same man we left this floor with. Say, what's this all about. I thought they ruled that fire was caused by a gas leak."

Perry smiled. "We are just trying to put the pieces of that night together." He stood up and Della followed suite. "We better get going. I appreciate your help and your hospitality. Anytime you need a lawyer, just call my office."

Bradford Stroud walked them to the door. Once outside, Della moved into Perry's arms. "I am alright, baby." He rubbed her back with his fingers.

"I was so scared for you," Della said.

He smiled. "I'm okay, thanks to your quick thinking." Perry walked Della to the elevator. He pressed the button and they waited for it to return to their floor. "Did you get a look at the man who knocked me over that railing?"

"Perry, it all happened so fast. All I saw was you falling over the railing. I was so worried about you; I did not pay any attention to him. Did you see him?"

"No, just his back."

"He didn't even stop. He left you hanging there," Della said.

"Which leads me to believe it was intentional."

"But why would someone want to knock you over that railing?"

"The more important question is why would someone want to kill me? Who knew we were here? And how could they possibly know why?"

"Could the blackmailer know Seth Palmer came to see you?" Della asked him.

"I don't know, Della. I get the feeling there is more to this than the simple blackmail of our client."

Upon arrival at Perry's Cadillac, he opened the door for Della. She slid into the vehicle. He went around and got in. "Rather than go back the office, why don't we go to my place and relax. We can check with Paul and find out if he has found out anything yet.

2.4

Ted Jacoby sat in a green Chevrolet a half a block from the apartment complex. He watched as Perry Mason and Della Street got into a black Cadillac. How did Mason keep from falling off that ledge? He could not have the lawyer nosing around. Damn Seth Palmer for going to see him. He was sure the man would cave immediately. Instead, he called on a big shot lawyer. That was not going to stop him. Palmer had a lot of money and Jacoby was going to relieve him of it. In the meantime, it was time to step up pressure on the fire starters. Ironic, five men who were supposed to be putting out fires were going around starting them. It apparently was more lucrative than their firefighter salaries.

In fact, it had become very lucrative for him as well. He had been padding his bank account for a while now. Moreover, he would continue to do so. The key to collecting from then was to keep his identity a mystery. He had complete confidence in doing so until Perry Mason showed up. He did not like it one bit. Mason was known for his investigative skills almost as much as he was for his courtroom skills. Jacoby knew that he could be sure if Mason was on the case, then so was Paul Drake of the Drake Detective Agency. Would it be possible to keep them from knowing who he was?

Palmer had to have told Mason about the collapsing ceiling and the man he had left behind. Jacoby was not worried about that but if Mason saw the video, he might be able to figure things out. Ted could not allow Mason to interfere in his plans. He was not living on a firefighter's salary for the rest of his life and risking his neck to protect people he could care less about. He had to bleed the fire starters for a few more years if he was to have enough money to retire from this lousy job and take it easy from then on out.

He watched as Mason pulled away from the curb. Maybe he should raise the amount of money he demanded. Yes, that was it. He had better accelerate his plans. He did not want to give Mason time to figure everything out. He would send his buddies another note.

2.5

Perry unlocked the door with the key to his apartment. He stepped back to allow Della to enter in front of him. He came up behind her and put his arms around her. "I owe you my life."

Della turned in his arms. She looked up into the blue eyes of her lawyer. "All I did was find someone to help you."

He smiled. "You could have let me fall."

"Before you fixed dinner?" She said with a playful look in her eyes.

Mason laughed. "Is that why you keep me around? … to fix you dinner."

"Among other things," she said as she reached up and ran her finger down the long dimple that lined his face when he smiled.

"What other things?" Perry asked.

"If you hold dinner off for a while, I show you," she said in voice that was almost a whisper. Perry bent down as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. Just as he began to deepen it, the phone rang. He ignored it.

As Della tried to extract herself from Perry's arms, she said, "That could be our wandering boy. You better answer it."

Perry sighed, let go of Della and picked up the phone. "Hello … Hi Paul, what do you have for me?"


	3. Chapter 3

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 03

3.1

I have not got a lot yet, Perry, but I know you like it as soon as we get it. So here goes ..."

Earlier ...

It had been a long day and Paul Drake was exhausted. He had not had a good night's sleep in over a week. It didn't matter though. His top paying client needed information and when Perry Mason wanted something, he wanted it yesterday. So here he was pulling up to the police station. He parked his car and headed in to see if Sgt. Christopher Madison was on duty. Paul took one more puff on his cigarette, tossed it to the ground and with his toe grounded it into the cement.

"I could arrest you for littering, Drake." Paul turned to face the owner of the familiar voice. "What are you doing here? I would have thought you would be out discovering dead bodies with Mason. On the other hand, is that the reason you are here? The two of you found a dead body?" Lt. Arthur Tragg said sarcastically.

"If we had, Tragg, we would have called it in," Paul said.

"Before or after Perry tucked his client away in some motel out of our reach? What brings you here then?"

Paul was not about to tell Tragg why he was there. "Sorry, Lieutenant, but Perry has not tucked a client anywhere that I know of."

Tragg took one more look at Drake and turned to leave. "Well, then do me a favor. Don't discover any dead bodies tonight. I have the night off and I don't want to be called back in to investigate."

"If we do, we will wait until morning to report it," Drake said.

Tragg looked back at the PI. "Keep your nose clean, Drake.

"Always," Paul replied. He watched as Tragg got into his car and drove out of the station. Paul shook his head. He grabbed the handle on the door, pulled it open and went in. He walked down the hall until he arrived at Christopher Madison's office. He wrapped his knuckles on the door.

"It's open," shouted the voice on the other side.

Paul opened the door and entered the office. The room was small and had no ventilation. It was hot and stuffy and reeked of cigarettes. "Hi Chris. What up?"

"Nothing, it has been a rather slow night."

"That can't be all bad," Paul said.

"You try working all night when nothing is going on."

"I have ... many times," Paul said remembering many boring nights on the job.

"What brings you down here?"

"I need some help."

"I suspected as much. Working for Mason?"

"Now you know I cannot answer that," Paul reminded him.

"Okay, what can I do for you?" Madison asked.

"I need some help with a fire that happened about five years at the Claymore Apartment Complex. One of the victims in particular."

"I remember that fire. I ended up on crowd control that night. The department was shorthanded. That was a bad one. Thirteen people were killed in that fire."

"Do you remember anything about a man by the name of Roger Maxwell?"

"Maxwell ... hmmmm ... that sounds familiar." Chris typed something into the computer and waited for the results of his inquiry. The screen filled with information. "Yeah, here it is. Roger Maxwell, twenty-six years old. He was born here in Los Angeles. He did not seem to have a steady job at the time of his death. He was found in an apartment on the sixth floor ... burned beyond recognition. They identified him through his dental records."

"Found in an apartment? Are you sure?"

"Yeah,it is right here, Paul. Why do you ask?"

"I have reason to believe he was in the hall. So I am wondering how he got in that apartment."

"Do you want to tell me why you believe that?" Chris asked.

"Not just yet. I am going to check something out. Just out of curiosity did he have a record?" Paul asked.

Chris's fingers flew over the keyboard. After a minute, he responded. "Boy did he ever. Started with purse snatching. Moved up to robbing convenience stores. They had him dead to right on that in five different stores but none of the store owners would press charges."

"Why would they not press charges?" Paul wondered.

"The arresting officer at one of the Seven Eleven stores said Maxwell threatened the owner when he was arrested. Unfortunately, for him, a two cops stopped by for a cup of coffee. They saw Maxwell through the window pointing a gun at the owner. They were able to arrest him without a shot fired."

"Did the owner say why he would not press charges?" Paul asked.

"He said it was a misunderstanding. Maxwell just wanted to show him his new gun."

"And they believed that?" Paul exclaimed in disbelief.

"Didn't matter whether or not they did, the owner would not press charges," Chris said.

"How was the fire started?"

"Arson."

"Did they catch whoever did it?"

"Nope. According to this, it is still unsolved today.

"What about the owner of the building? Insurance?" Paul asked.

"Doubtful, according to this, the owner put the building right back to the way it was before the fire. He owns four of these apartment buildings. He checked out. He's a successful businessman. He gained nothing from that fire. In fact he lost money as he had to settle out of court on a couple lawsuits."

"Did the police have any suspicions as to who might have started the fire?" Paul inquired.

"Not according to anything in this report."

"Where does the case stand now?"

"It doesn't. It had been left open but you know what that means."

"Yeah, no one is working on it. It remains in the unsolved file."

"Right."

"One last question. Did they check his bank accounts?"

Chris looked through the file again. "There isn't anything in here regarding that. Are you implying he might have been paid to start the fire?"

Paul frowned. "I don't know but this stinks to high heaven."

"Yeah well, too many cases and not enough detectives to investigate them."

"Can I have a list of the other stores that he robbed?"

"Sure," Chris said.

"Thanks, Chris. I appreciate the help."

"You are welcome, Paul. Hey, how about a drink sometime?"

"I'd like that. Give me a call some night when you get off duty." Paul headed for the door.

"Later, Paul."

"Later," Paul responded.

When Drake got to his car, he pulled out his cell phone and called Mason.

"_Hello,_" sounded Mason's voice through the receiver.

"Perry, I don't have much yet but I thought you might want whatever we find out right away."

_"Hi Paul, what do you have for me?"_

"Just some information on the guy who died in that fire five years ago."

"Alright, let's have it."

Paul gave him a rundown on what Chris Madison had told him.

"If I understand you correctly, you think this guy may have been murdered?"

"Perry, I do."

"And you say no autopsy was done?"

"That's the thing that bothers me. No, they did not do one."

"But if he had been burned beyond recognition, they would have figured he was just killed in the fire." Perry surmised.

"Maybe but this fire had been ruled arson. There should have been an autopsy," Paul insisted.

"They probably figured it was a waste of time. It was obvious he was killed in the fire and they had no reason to believe anyone had been trying to kill him."

"But was the fire the actual cause of his death?" Paul wondered.

"What makes you think it wasn't?"

"He could have been stabbed, shot or clubbed over the head. Without the autopsy, how would they know?"

"Why would they even suspect it? The police just did not have reason to believe it was anything other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No," Paul conceded. "But your client said he left the man covered in debris and he was alive. How could he have gotten out of that mess without help?"

Perry thought about that for a moment. Paul was right on that point. "They could not have known that. Palmer ran from the scene and told no one for five years. There is a flaw in your thinking, Paul."

"Yeah well I don't see it, pal."

"If someone wanted him dead then why help him out of it in the first place?"

Paul had to admit Perry had a point. "I don't know. Why are all your clients surrounded in mystery?"

Perry laughed. "It is the nature of my business. Besides, if they weren't, I would not need you. Listen, Paul, there is another man I want you to check out. His name is Bradford Stout." Mason went on to explain what happened at the apartment complex."

"Good grief, Perry, and you are questioning me as to whether Maxwell was murdered?"

"I am not really questioning it. Just pointing out the inconsistencies. We have to have facts, Paul. Don't give up on it. Keep digging."

"But what if I find out that your client ..."

"Murdered Maxwell?" Perry finished for him.

"Yeah. That is what I was going to say."

"I can't help him unless I know the truth. Besides, I don't think he is a murderer. The video shows him running from the scene."

"That could have been staged, Perry."

"You did not see the video. The kid had an utter look of horror on his face. No, Paul. He was terrified and Maxwell was alive when he left."

"He could have gone back."

"Possibly, but I don't think so. Anyway, check out Stout. I find it hard to believe he did not smell that fire raging all around him. Something is fishy about that guy."

"Okay, pal. I'll call you when I have something." Drake hung up the phone.

3.2

Perry turned back to Della. "Now, where were we?" He said, as he encircled his arms around his secretary.

Della smiled. Somewhere about here." She reached up on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

As Perry began to deepen their kiss, his hands began to roam. Della gently pushed him back with her hand resting on his chest. He looked down at her, frowned and said softly, "You are sending me mixed signals, Miss Street."

"Perry, I heard most of Paul's end of the conversation. Do you really think the man was murdered?"

"We don't know yet, although we may have to find out. If he was, it might be the same one that is blackmailing Seth Palmer. Now can we pick up where we left off?" Mason again reached for her but she pulled away.

"Then the guy that almost knocked you down those stairs could have been the murderer."

"That is a possibility, Della ... if he was indeed murdered." He pulled her back into his arms. Perry began placing kisses on her neck as his hand caressed her back.

When his lips met hers again, he parted her lips with his. His tongue hungrily sought hers. Della pulled back.

Mason dropped his hands to his side in exasperation. "Della, you are doing permanent damage to my ego."

"Perry, someone in that apartment complex tried to kill you. There is a good chance that the man is still living there in one of those apartments."

"Can't this wait until tomorrow? There is nothing we can do tonight."

"Shouldn't you have Paul find out which tenants that were living there five years ago are still living there now?"

"We will if it becomes necessary. Let us wait and see what Paul comes up with on Brad Stout. I have a bad feeling when it comes to that guy."

Della looked at Perry with a pout. "You are not listening to me, Perry."

"I always listen to you. You know your opinion carries a lot of weight with me." He once again reached for her but she backed away from him. "You sure know how to kill a mood. I am going to bed. Mr. Palmer's problem can wait until morning." Mason turned away from her and headed to the bedroom.

Della found herself standing alone in his living room. She felt guilty. Perry did indeed listen to her opinion and she knew it carried a good deal of weight with him.

They did not have any time alone together in Washington ... at least not what Perry considered quality time. Since they had returned, catching up at the office had been their top priority. Della realized she missed that "quality" time with him as well. _Well don't just stand here, she thought. Go to him!_

She kicked off her heals. Then went into his kitchen, pulled two wine glasses out of the cupboard. Della reached into his fridge and grabbed a bottle of white wine. Armed with them she headed for his bedroom. On the way, she turned out the lights that had been left on with Perry's abrupt departure. When she arrived at his bedroom door, she found it ajar. The lights had been turned out inside. Della pushed the door open with her elbow. She entered the bedroom quietly. After setting the glasses down on the nightstand, she poured wine into both glasses and set them down. There was just enough light coming into the room from the full moon that Della could see Perry's face. His eyes were closed, his back to her. He could not possibly go to sleep this quickly. It was apparent that he was upset with her.

She slid into the bed and cuddled up close to him. Della reached over him and ran her fingers through his chest hair. At the same time she laid her head on his. "I'm sorry, Perry. I was pre-occupied with helping you. I did not mean to appear uninterested in your advances." She waited, he did not respond. "I know I killed the mood, but I promise I can revive it if you give me a chance." Della thought she saw a smile turn up just slightly. Still he did not open his eyes or say anything. "That is unless of course you are not interested in reviving the mood," She whispered in his ear.

Perry opened his eyes. "Where did you get that idea?"

Della laughed. She knew he could not hold out forever. "Really, I am sorry. I only wanted to help."

"Della, there is a time for work and a time for play. We worked all day."

"And now you want to play all night," she cooed.

"Well not all night. We have to sleep sometime."

"So you want to sleep now?" She teased.

"No, later," he replied. "Much later." He rolled over and took her in his arms. She ran her fingers lightly down his broad back. Perry kissed her hungrily and said, "Much, much later."

3.4

"Well, are you going to call or fold?" Denny asked.

Monte could not keep his mind on the game. He had already lost almost a week's salary. "I can't believe we are just sitting here playing poker when our lives are crumbling down around our ears."

Bert shook his head. "Don't be so damn dramatic. We'll come out all right. Now, will you either call, raise or fold. Those are your choices."

Monte threw his cards down. "I'm out. I can't concentrate." Marcus and Mitch threw in their cards. Denny did the same.

A big smile spread across Bert's face. "Easy money! You guys ought to give up poker. All of you together would not make one decent poker player."

"Shut up Bert," Marcus growled. "Seemed to me the last time we played you lost your shirt."

The phone rang. Monte was closest to it. He walked over and answered it. His face turned pale, catching the attention of his fellow firefighters. "What is it?" Mitch asked.

Monte hung up the phone. He walked slowly over to the table. "That was him."

"Who," Bert asked. "Make some sense, will ya."

"The blackmailer. He said there is going to be a fire on Bryan St. We are to let it burn and help it along. Our cut will be a thousand a piece," Monte announced.

"WHAT?" Bert shouted. "That's ridiculous. That's a tenth of what we have been collecting! We have to stop this guy."

"Are you surprised? First, he starts blackmailing us and now he is taking all the money … money that we were collecting ourselves. That won't even cover what we will have to pay back to him in blackmail," Denny snarled.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Mitch shouted. "This can't go on. We are taking all the chances and this guy is collecting all the money."

"I am not going to help this guy get rich, while we get poorer," Marcus complained.

"Did you recognize the voice, Monte?" Denny asked.

"No," he answered.

"So, what are we going to do?" Marcus asked.

"There is nothing we can do except what we are told to do … at least until we find out who the hell is doing this," Denny conceded.

The siren started wailing. "Let's go, boys."

3.5

Paul watched as the building burned. Three fire engines did not seem to be enough to get the fire under control. He had been headed home to get some sleep when he noticed the flames. Even at this hour, a crowd had gathered. A hand touched his shoulder. When he turned around, Lt. Andy Anderson was standing there. "What's homicide doing here?" Paul asked.

"What are you doing here? Working for Mason?"

"I was just on my way home when I saw the flames," Paul told him.

"I didn't know you had an interest in fires," Andy said.

"I don't … that is until lately. I thought I might learn something."

"About fires?" Andy asked.

"About firefighters," Paul corrected him.

'Why?"

Paul looked at him. "Seems I am the one answering all the questions and you did not bother to tell me why homicide is here."

"We're not. I happened to see you standing here as I was going by. I thought maybe you and Perry discovered another body."

Remembering what Lt. Tragg had said earlier, Paul snapped, "What is it with you guys? Do you think Perry and I spend all our time looking for murder victims?"

Andy smiled. "Well, that is how Perry makes his living and you seem to do all his investigating."

Paul returned the smile as the irritation disappeared. "Well, we don't."

"Is there a firefighter in particular that you are interested in?"

"Can't answer that," Paul said. He looked at the flames that were trying to lick the sky. "This was a small fire when I got here. I don't understand why they couldn't contain it. The place is burning to the ground. It looked to me like it should have been contained rather quickly."

"You just became interested in fires and now you are an expert?" Andy chided him.

"No, Andy, I am no expert but a fire as small as this should not have come to this."

"It can happen, Paul. Chemicals in cleaning product and many other things could cause it to spread quickly."

"I don't know Andy. It was too small to turn into this."

Anderson slapped Paul on the shoulder. "I am headed home. You should do the same. Later, Paul."

Drake turned around and watched Lt. Anderson leave. "Yeah, later." He spotted a firefighter sitting one of the fire engines. Maybe he would know the name of the firefighters on duty tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 04

4.1

"These are all of the fireman on duty tonight?" Paul asked as he showed the young firefighter the list of names that he had written down.

The young man took the notebook from Drake and read, "Denny Boulder, Mitch Donaldson, Bert Fielder, Ted Jacoby, Marcus Shepherd, Monte Skinner and Seth Palmer. Yes, that is all of them except for me."

"You don't go inside to help put out the fire?" Paul asked.

"No, my job is to make sure they have everything they need and to communicate with the station … to put in another alarm if necessary."

"In this case it isn't necessary?"

"Denny is in charge in there and he has not asked for help," the firefighter said.

"But I have been here for quite a while. That started out as just a small fire. It is burning to the ground," Drake observed.

The young man shrugged his shoulder. "It is not for me to say. Denny is in charge."

"Then you don't think he should have put in another alarm for more help?"

The fireman was beginning to show his discomfort. "Like I said. It is not for me to say. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do," he said and turned away from him.

Paul took another look at his list and decide everyone on the list needed closer scrutiny.

4.2

Della Street slowly opened her eyes. She glanced at the clock. It was six o'clock in the morning. She was lying in the crook of Perry's left arm. His right arm was draped across her body. She could tell by his steady breathing and light snore that he was still asleep. The alarm was not set to go off for another hour. Della smiled when she thought about last night. Perry finally got his _quality_ time with her. It was probably just what he needed as he had slept soundly. It was the first night since they had arrived back from Washington that they actually took time for one another. Della felt completely refreshed even though she had only slept for four hours.

She gently took Perry's wrist, removed his from across her and set it down on his chest. Della slipped out of bed and went into the connecting bathroom. She turned on the shower and stepped in.

An hour later the sun peeping in the window awaken Perry Mason. He reached for Della, only to discover she was not there. Mason smiled. It was not uncommon for Della to wake up before he did. It was uncommon for either of them to wake much before the clock went off. They usually laid there for a few minutes in each others arms and waited for it to sound.

Perry stretched just as the offending clock began beeping, demanding that he rise for the day. He reached over and shut it off. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Perry threw the covers back, stood up and went into the bathroom. Della had set out a fresh towel and washcloth.

After showering and shaving, Perry got dressed and headed for the kitchen. He could smell the aroma of bacon and eggs as soon as he left the bedroom.

Della's back was to him as she stood at the stove turning the bacon in the frying pan. Perry walked up behind her, put his arms around her and placed s kiss on her neck.

Della smiled and turned in his arms. "Breakfast will be ready in a minute. I suggest you read the morning paper. The front page headline will interest you in particular.

Perry sat down at the table. He picked up the paper and unfolded it. Della had set a glass of orange juice at his place setting. He picked it up and downed the entire contents of the glass without stopping.

LOCAL BUSINESS BURNS TO THE GROUND

Third fire this month.

Just as Perry began reading the article, the doorbell rang. "Perry, you better answer that," Della called out.

Perry went to the front door. When he opened it, Paul Drake was leaning on the door frame, It was clear the unshaven detective had not gotten any sleep. "Come in Paul."

Drake entered Perry's apartment. The smell of the bacon and eggs invaded his nostrils. "I haven't eaten since noon yesterday."

Perry smiled. "I am sure Della could rustle up some eggs." Drake followed Perry into the kitchen. When Della saw the private detective, she went to Perry's cupboard and took out another plate. She placed bacon and eggs on two plates and set them down in front of the two men. Toast popped out of the toaster. Della buttered two slices of toast and placed one on each of their plates. Her last act before sitting down herself was to pour two cups of coffee for Paul and Perry.

"What kept you up all night, Paul?" Perry asked.

"What always keeps me up all night? You!"

Perry picked up the newspaper. "You weren't by any chance hanging out there?" He dropped the paper, with the news story on top beside Paul's plate.

Paul glanced at the headline. "That's exactly where I was and you will be billed for my time."

Perry looked at Paul. "Any just why would my office be billed because you joined the lookie lous at a fire?" Perry really was not questioning why Paul would bill him. Paul had always been fair with what he billed Perry's office. Perry just enjoyed giving him a hard time on occasion, especially when Paul was tired.

"I have been doing some checking. There were five serious fires this month, unlike what that headline says there." Paul pointed at the byline on the page. "Two of those, although serious, were brought under control quite quickly. In the other three, all of those buildings burnt to the ground, including the one last night."

"What are you trying to tell me, Paul?" Perry asked.

"Nothing yet. Here are the names of those that were on that fire last night."

"Firefighters?"

"That's right."

Mason looked over the list. "What do you make of it?"

Paul washed down the remainder of his eggs and said, "I am no experts on fires, Perry, but there was something fishy about this one."

"In what way," Della asked.

"Well, when I stopped the fire was small. There were three fire trucks there. Yet within about an hour, it was completely out of control."

"There are many things, especially in a business building that could have caused that fire to go out of control. In our building alone, just the cleaning solutions they keep on each floor could cause any fire that started to spread," Perry pointed out.

"I am aware of that but there were more than enough personnel there to contain that fire, Perry. I think we should look into it."

"Don't you think that is the fire department's job, Paul?" Della asked. "What has that to do with our case?"

"I get the feeling the fire department is not going to find any reason to check on it," Paul responded. "And my gut tells me it does have to do with the case."

"Paul may have a point there, Della. Seth Palmer is being blackmail by something that happened at a fire. If Paul is right than there is a possibility that the fireman on duty deliberately allowed that fire to continue burning long after it should have been put out." Perry rubbed his chin with his thumb.

"But why would they do that? It doesn't make sense," Della argued.

"It would if they were in an insurance scheme," Perry said.

"Perry, are you saying they could be allowing the buildings to burn for insurance? That doesn't make sense. Only the owners of the buildings would collect the insurance. The firefighters would not collect a dime."

"No, they wouldn't," Paul said. "Unless …"

"They made arrangements with the owners in advance," Perry finished for him.

"Perry, do you realize what you are saying. You are implying that the firefighters are running a scam to defraud the insurance companies out of money," Della said.

"I am not implying it, Della. I am simply saying it is a possibility. There is one way of testing the theory."

"How," Paul asked.

"Check the all five of this month's fire. I want the names of every firefighter on each one of those sites."

Paul nodded. "That is exactly what I had in mind. And by the way Seth Palmer was one of the firefighters on duty last night."

"Della, when you get to the office I want you to call Seth. Tell him, I am going to stop by the station. I want to talk to him. We'll have to take separate cars. Reschedule my morning appointments. Paul, I would like you to go to the newspaper. Find out what information they have on those fires. I would like to find out those names without alerting the men at that station."

"It could be that more than one station is involved," Paul said.

"All the more reason to try to get the information without alerting the firefighters," Perry said. He stood up, wiped his mouth with his napkin and drank the last of his coffee. "We better get started."

"You two go ahead. I take care of the dishes and then go to the office. I'll need your car, Chief."

"Where's your car?" Paul said.

Both Della and Perry ignored his questions. "Forget the dishes, Della. The maid comes in today. She will take care of them."

They left Perry's apartment and headed for the parking garage. When they arrive at Perry's Cadillac, he unlocked the car and motioned for Della to get in. After Della gracefully swung her legs into the vehicle, Perry bent down to her level and then quickly straighten up."

"Oh for cripes sake you two! Do you really think I don't know what is going on between you? I suppose Della forgot and left her car at the office then took a taxi home last night, only to grabbed one this morning but instead of going to work, she decided to drop in here for breakfast." He shook his head. "Kiss her goodbye so we can get out of here."

Perry smiled, bent down and kissed Della. "I'll see you at the office." Perry shut the car door and then followed Paul to his car.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. "You are a lucky man, you know that don't you?"

Perry smiled again. "Better than I deserve."

"Why do you two try to hide it in from of me? Come on Perry, after all we have been through, the danger, the bullets. Your feelings for Della are obvious to me. And you know in some of our recent exploits, you have given yourself away many times."

"We don't try to hide it from you, Paul. It is just that … well it is between Della and me. We try to keep it out of the gossip columns. Discretion has become a habit."

"I am not the gossip column, pal."

"Yes, I know." Perry changed the subject. "Have you had a chance to check out our client and Stout?"

"Not yet Perry. But I will later today."

Perry looked at his tired private detective. "Much later. After you talk to your contact at the LA Times, I want you to go back to your apartment and get some sleep. You are no good to me if you miss something because you are operating tired.

"Perry, when I am working for you, I always operate tired." They arrived at the fire station. Paul let Perry out at the car and then drove away.

4.3

Perry Mason entered the station. He passed by the fire engines and looked around for Seth Palmer. He did not see him. He walked into a room that looked like a high school locker room. Lockers lined the wall. There was a man who seemed to be trying the combination lock on one of the lockers. Perry stood back and watched him. Each locker had a nameplate on it. Perry look at the locker the man was trying to get into. The name on the locker was 'Seth Palmer'. However, this man was not Seth Palmer.

Perry walked up behind the man and said, "Mr. Palmer, possibly you can help me."

Bert Fielder turned around quickly, startled. He had not heard the man come up behind him. "What? Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Wilber Johnson. I am doing an article for Life Magazine. In fact, I was here to see you Mr. Palmer. I would like to do a story surrounding a day in the life of a fireman," Perry said.

"I am not interested in having a story done on me, so get lost. In fact, get out of the station. You cannot just go around roaming inside of here, Mister."

"Oh, I was not aware of that. I will leave now and call for an appointment." Perry turned to leave. He walked out of the room but stood concealed outside the door. He watched the man try Seth's locker several times and finally slammed the lock at the locker. He walked over to another locker and tried the lock. It opened immediately. Perry looked up above him. The name on the lock was 'Bert Fielder'. Perry made a mental note to mention it to Paul.

He left and went down the hall. He came upon an elevator. He took it up stairs. He could hear several voices. Coming down the hall toward him was Seth Palmer. He spotted Mason and hurried toward him. "Mr. Mason, what are you doing here? I don't want anyone to know I have retained you." He shoved Mason into a nearby room.

"I thought you knew I was coming. Della was supposed to call and tell you."

"She did but I told her to catch you and stop you. I said I would come by your office later today."

"My cell phone is on vibrate. I did not bother to check it when it went off. Sorry," Mason said.

"What did you want to see me about?"

"You were at a fire last night?"

"Yes, that's right? Why?"

"Can you tell me about it?" Mason asked.

"It was a fire. Not a bad one."

"Not a bad one?" Mason questioned. "The building burnt to the ground."

"It should not have. It should have been easily controlled."

"Then why wasn't it?"

"Denny … Boulder, he made all the wrong decisions. He didn't allow enough firemen into the area that was the most dangerous. It was almost like he did it on purpose, Mr. Mason."

"Maybe he did, Seth, maybe he did. What about the other fire engines that were there last night?"

"He called them once the situation was hopeless."

"What was your job?"

"Huh … he had me checking for people. I was supposed to get them out of there.

"People? In a business building that late at night?

"Yeah, that is what I said. After I checked the building, he had me coordinating between engines."

"What's that entail?"

"Busy work, Mr. Mason. There is nothing to do and he already had a man for that."

"So you are saying he was trying to keep you away from the fire?"

"I'm sure he was. I would have known if he was deliberating allowing that fire to burn."

"But if you would have known then shouldn't the other men on duty have known as well."

"I would think so but I am not going to speak for them. What's this all about?" Seth asked.

"I am not sure yet. In the meantime, has the blackmailer contacted you yet?"

"No sir, not yet," Seth answered.

"Just remember, you are not paying it and contact me immediately."

"Ok sir. I will do that. Now please don't take this personally, but will you get the hell out of here before someone sees you."

Mason smiled. "Alright Seth. I'll be in touch soon." Seth left the room.

Perry peaked out the door. He did not see anyone so he quietly left the room.

4.4

"Well if it isn't the famous Mr. Drake," Dennis Shindler said as Paul walked into his office.

"Hi Dennis, how's the newspaper business going?"

"Boring compared to what you were doing in Washington. I'll bet business has picked up a bit since you got back after having your face on television."

"Business has been good. In fact, I am here on business. I was wondering if you could help me with a story you have been covering?"

"Which one?"

"The fires." Drake lit up a cigarette and sat down.

"What's your interest in the fires?"

"We have had five fires this month. I would like to know who the firemen that were on duty without tipping them off."

Dennis typed on his computer keyboard. He looked at Drake. "Do you know something about these fires that I don't?"

"I doubt it. If I thought I knew more than you, I would not be here."

"Let's see three out of five fires had …" He stopped. Dennis sat forward in his chair and read silently. "I can't believe I did not pick up on this before."

"Pick up on what?" Paul asked.

"Three out of five fires had exactly the same crew."

Paul reached into his pocket. "Were the firefighters Denny Boulder, Bert Fielder, Marcus Shepherd, Mitch Donaldson, Ted Jacoby, Monte Skinner and Seth Palmer."

"All but Palmer. He was at last night's fire and the two that the rest of the guys were not at."

"In other words the only one of the three fires where the buildings burnt to the ground that Palmer was at was last night?"

"That is right. Paul, what is your interest in this?"

"I can't tell you that. You know that. But I will certainly keep you up to date on what I find. You will get the exclusive."

"Okay Paul. If anything else comes up, I let you know."

Paul left his office. He was dead on his feet. He was going to take Perry's advice and go home and get some sleep.

4.5

Perry turned the corner. He glanced into the locker room. No one was in there. He entered the locker room. Walking over to Seth Palmer's locker, he checked the lock. It was locked. Then he noticed a paper was sticking out of the bottom of one of the lockers. Mason walked over to the locker and looked at the name. It was Bert Fielder's locker. He looked around, saw no one so he bent down and gently pulled the paper out of the bottom of the locker, using his handkerchief. It was an envelope. Perry carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

_Your next installment will be put in post office box 236 at the main post office. The payment is ten thousand dollars by noon tomorrow. If it is not there, I will blow the whistle on you and your friends. _

Perry memorized the message, put it back into the envelope and then careful shoved the envelope into the vents of the locker. After placing his handkerchief back in his pocket, he left the locker room.

He walked alongside one of the fire engines and headed behind to the door. Perry could hear the engine running on a couple of them. He stopped. Why would they be running? He walked slowly past the rear of each of the fire engines. Suddenly one of them was backing out directly at him at a fast speed. Perry turned to see the fire engine closing in on him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Case the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 05

5.1

"Mason! Look out!" Seth Palmer raced toward him. Leaping at him, Palmer hit Perry Mason with the full force of his body weight. Both men went tumbling to the ground, the fire engine missing them by inches.

Palmer got up from the ground. He reached down, grabbed Perry and pulled him to his feet. "Are you okay, Mr. Mason?"

"Yes, I'm alright," Perry answered. "Did you who was behind the wheel of that fire engine?"

"No sir, I just saw that fire engine moving toward you. The only thing on my mind was to get you out of the way."

"Somebody deliberately tried to run me down. Which of the firemen are on duty right now?"

"The same crew that I am usually on duty with," Seth answered. "That would be Boulder, Fielder, Monte Skinner, Marcus Shepherd, Mitch Donaldson, and Ted Jacoby. Jacoby bounces between this and another station."

"I saw Bert Fielder at your locker. Just before he came in, I noticed a piece of paper hanging out the bottom of your locker. It was another ransom note. It said you were to put ten thousand in a box two thirty six at the Post Office by noon tomorrow. I put it back in the locker after memorizing its contents."

"Then Bert Fielder is the blackmailer," Seth surmised.

"No, not necessarily. He was trying to open the locker. I watched him. He did not have time to put anything into your locker. I don't think he is the one who planted it." Perry frowned as he spoke.

"He could have been the one that tried to run you down."

"He had been in the general area," Perry agreed. "We'll check him out. In the meantime, we need to be at the post office tomorrow to see who picks up the money."

"Then you want me to get the money out of the bank?" Seth asked.

"No, we are going to fill a shoe box full of paper clippings," Perry answered. Then we will see who picks it up."

What do you want me to do?" Seth asked.

"Nothing. Be at my office at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. I want you there for identification purposes."

"Alright, Mr. Mason. "I'll see you in the morning." Seth offered his hand and Perry shook hands with him. He left his client. It was time to get back to the office and find out what Paul had found out.

5.2

Paul Drake sat in the restaurant eating a sandwich. His back to the door, he looked up every time it opened. Sgt. Chris Morrison ate lunch here several times a week. Drake had not necessarily come to this particular restaurant looking for Morrison but then again he would speak him if he happened to come in. Paul looked up again when he heard the bell over the door sound. To his disappointment, a woman walked into the restaurant. Paul could not believe it. Was he actually disappointed a woman had walked in? He shook his head. He had been working for Perry too long.

Ten minutes later Chris Morrison walked in. When he spotted Paul, he headed straight for his table. "What brings you here?"

Paul stood up, shook hands with Sgt. Morrison and then waved his hand toward a chair, indicating Morrison sit down.

Chris obliged him and sat heavily into the chair next to Drake. "So what is it this time, Paul?

"I need to have you check out someone for me," Paul answered.

"Who?"

"A guy by the name of Bradley Stout," Paul said.

There was a look of recognition in Morrison's expression.

"I take it you have heard the name?" Paul surmised.

"Heard of him. Are you kidding? He is a suspected arsonist. He has been connected with fires in five different states."

"Has he served time?" Paul asked.

"Not one day. Although, we are sure that he has been setting fires, we have been unable to charge him with anything. He's slick, Paul."

"He lives in the Claymore Complex which had a fire five years ago," Paul pointed out. "Was he responsible for that fire?"

"We can't prove it but he lived there ... still does as a matter of fact. He was home at the time the fire broke out. Most of the people were off his floor when he came down."

"Is there anything that points to him setting the fire?" Paul asked.

"Only that it was an electrical fire and he is an electrician."

"What about the other fires?" Paul inquired.

"All started by faulty wiring," Chris told him.

"Isn't that enough to question him?" Paul asked.

"He was questioned about the Claymore Complex fire. According to him he did not even smell the smoke," Chris answered.

"How heavy was the smoke?

"Let me put it this way ... not even a badly congested head cold could have kept him from smelling that fire."

"What about the other fires? Can he be connected to any of the others?"

"We have eyewitnesses who have given a description that closely matches his but none of them have been able to say for sure if he was the individual they saw at the scene."

"How many fires was he seen?" Paul asked.

"All of them."

Paul did not try to hide his surprise. "And no one can say it was he."

"Unfortunately no. But each of them saw a man who matches Stout's description but he was seen at different times. One woman saw him a couple days before. Another ... a few hours before and one ... while the fire was raging."

"You said he did not have a record. Was he ever questioned about any of the fires?

"His whereabouts have been checked. Without something more substantial, we cannot keep pulling him in without taking the chance of him calling some smart ass lawyer that will threaten us with a law suit."

Paul smiled. He could not tell him that he was working for a 'smart ass' lawyer. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Just one thing I think you will find interesting ... he lost his parents in a house fire when he was twelve years old."

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Arson?"

Chris Morrison nodded. "Stout could not be tied to it? It was ..."

"An electrical fire," Paul finished for him.

Once again, Chris nodded. "They had no reason to believe Stout did it. He was only twelve at the time. Who would suspect a twelve year old of messing with the wiring and causing a fire?"

Paul finished drinking his cola and took the last bit of his sandwich. He stood up and said, "Thanks for the information, Chris." He shook hands with Morrison and left the restaurant.

5.3

Perry arrived back at the office. He entered the private entrance. The door to the outer office opened and Della Street entered. She set a cup of coffee on the desk in front of him. She sat down on the edge of his desk. "How did it go with Seth Palmer?"

Perry relayed the morning's activity. Before he could tell her about the fire engine, Paul's code knock sounded on the door. Della walked over to the door and opened it. Paul came bounding in. He smiled at Della. "Hello beautiful."

Della returned the smile. She left the office and came back with another cup of coffee. Paul sat down in his favorite chair and threw his leg over arm of the chair. After taking a sip of the coffee, he told Perry and Della what he had learned from Sgt. Chris Morrison.

"Paul, I want you to assign a man to follow Brad Stout. He could be the one setting the fires. If he is not, he may be the one arranging it with the owners of the buildings.

"He then in turn could be working with the firemen to make sure they allow the fire to burn like they did last night," Paul guessed. "I'll get some men on it right away."

Perry then told Paul and Della what happened at the fire station. "You did not say anything about someone trying to kill you, Perry," Della said. She was clearly upset.

"I was coming to that when Paul came in," Perry said trying to soothe Della.

"Did you see who was in the truck?" Paul asked.

"No, I did not have the opportunity. I don't think I would have gotten out of the way of that truck if it had not been for Seth Palmer. I had just turned and saw the fire truck. I had not had much time to react."

"You said Bert Fieldler was trying to get into Seth Palmer's locker and you approached him. He could have become suspicious of you. If he is the one blackmailing Seth, he could have been worried you would find out. After all, you have quite a reputation for solving and winning cases," Della suggested.

Mason shook his head. "I gave him a phony name and led him to believe that I was working for a magazine, looking for a story."

"Perry, you are a well known criminal attorney. I find it hard to believe he didn't recognize you," Paul said.

"If he did, he did not give any indication of it."

Della added, "The fact that you did not give your real name could have gotten him worried. If he is a part of the blackmailing and arson then you would present a threat to him."

"I assume the police are going to investigate it," Paul said.

"I did not call the police."

Both Della and Paul look at him in disbelief. "Why in the world would you not call the police? Whoever it was tried to kill you." Della demanded.

"He didn't succeed and I did not want to alert the entire fire station."

"If they are involved, and there is a good chance they are, then Fielder would have told them about you being there anyway," Paul said.

"Maybe but somehow I don't think all of those firemen would agree to killing me."

"I still think you should have called the police," Della insisted

"No, Della. I would like to do this investigation as quietly as possible," Perry said. "However, we may have a conclusion to this tomorrow." He turned to Paul. "Seth Palmer got another demand from the blackmailer. He is to put ten thousand dollars in cash in box two thirty six at the post office closest to the fire station by noon tomorrow."

"And you want the box watched to see who picks it up," Paul interrupted.

"I want us to be there. Seth Palmer will be with us for identification. If it is one of the fireman, he will know who it is."

"What do you want me to do?" Paul asked.

"Make sure whoever shows up to pick up the money does not get away."

"Does Palmer have the money?"

"He has it but the box will only have newspaper clippings in it. I am not going to allow Palmer to pay any blackmail."

"Alright, Perry. I will be there myself. I will also have a couple men there to make sure he does not slip past us. Anything else?"

"No that is all for now. Hold off checking the fireman until after we see what happens tomorrow."

"Well then," Della said, "if we are done for the evening, what do you say you handsome gentlemen take me to dinner?"

Perry smiled. "What do you think, Paul? Shall we take her to dinner?"

Paul went to Della's side and offered his arm. "Unlike our esteemed lawyer, I don't need to ask that question. Miss Street, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me?"

"Why thank you, Mr. Drake. I would love to." Della took his arm and looked at Perry. "You can come too, Mr. Mason." She smiled at Perry.

Perry moved to Della's other side. "Since you insist on taking my girl to dinner ... and I have been invited to come along, I trust you are picking up the check for me as well?"

Paul shook his head as Della laughed. "Let's go gentlemen."

5.4

Seth Palmer finished the last of his bottle of Pepsi. He looked around the room at his fellow fireman. He wondered which one of these men would attempt to pick up the box of money. Seth found it hard to believe one of them was blackmailing him. He worked with these people closely. He had depended on them to look out for him in a fire and he did the same for them. It was so hard for him to accept it.

"Denny, I will be right back," he told his boss. Seth left the room and headed for his locker. As he turned into the locker room, there was a man standings in front of the lockers. He was stuffing envelopes in several of them. Seth noticed that he stuffed one in his locker as well. He walked over to the man. "What did you just put in my locker?'

The man jumped and turned. Ted Jacoby looked at Seth Palmer with a look of panic on his face. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't stand there and lie. I watched you put an envelope in my locker and several others."

"I don't have any idea what you are talking about. I put nothing in any locker but mine," Jacoby insisted.

"Why don't we find out what you _you didn't put in my locker." _Seth said, raising his voice. He worked the combination on the locker and opened the door. Just as he expected the envelope was laying at the bottom. He picked it up and tore it open. Seth read it out loud, "_Remember, by noon tomorrow or I tell the world how you killed that man in the Claymore apartment fire."_

Seth turned toward Jacoby. "You slimy little weasel. You are the one that has been blackmailing me!"

"Don't be ridiculous. I am not blackmailing anyone." Jacoby started to walk away but Seth stepped in front of him.

"You aren't going anywhere, Jacoby. You get one thing straight right now. I am not paying you one red cent of blackmail money. I hired Perry Mason, the lawyer. If you try to breathe one word of what happened that day, I will have him go to the police and show them the letters and the video. Blackmail is a federal offense. You hear me, Jacoby?"

The two men were unaware that their loud voices had drawn a crowd. Denny Boulder, Bert Fielder, and Monte Skinner were standing in the doorway taking in the scene.

Palmer grabbed Ted Jacoby by both sides of his collar. "I asked you a question. Do you hear me?" Seth began shaking him, the rage on his face was obvious with the loss of his temper.

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about. Let go of me, NOW, he shouted.

"I'll let go of you when you tell me me you'll stop blackmailing me!" Seth screamed.

"You are not in any position to dictate to me, Mr. Palmer. You are going to pay me or I am going to tell the world what you did. You would lose your job and probably go to jail for killing that man. So which will it be? The money or jail?"

"Why you son of a bitch, you are not telling anyone anything. I will kill you first, you bastard!" Palmer screamed back at Jacoby. He pulled back his fist and punched Jacoby in the face. Jacoby's nose gave way under the blow of Palmer's fist. He fell to the floor. Palmer jumped on him and started punching him in the face, landing one blow after another.

Denny Boulder, Bert Fielder, and Monte Skinner ran over to the two battling firemen. Monte and Bert grabbed Palmer and pulled him off Ted Jacoby. Denny helped Jacoby to his feet. "That's enough both of you!" He and the other two men struggled to keep Palmer and Jacoby separated.

"Seth, go back upstairs. Ted, go clean yourself up, NOW! Boulder shouted.

Seth left immediately. With help from his fellow fireman, Jacoby was steadied on his feet. He jerked away from Boulder. "I am alright. Take your hands off of me!" Boulder let go and Jacoby stomped off.

"Did you catch that. Ted was blackmailing Seth," Bert said.

"Yeah, but what for? He has never been in on the fires," Monte wondered.

"Maybe we better check our own lockers," Bert suggested.

Boulder nodded. All three men went to their respective lockers and worked the combinations. Each one pulled our identical white envelopes.

"Why that rotten son of a bitch! He put a ransom note in my locker," Bert cried.

"Mine too," Monte said.

"That makes three of us. I am betting Marcus and Mitch got one also," Denny said. He pulled out his pass key and opened the two lockers. Sure enough there was one envelope in both lockers. Denny gathered up the envelopes and put them in his pocket.

Bert bent over and picked up the one Seth left behind. Denny read it out loud to his friends.

"Claymore Complex? Was that one about five years ago?" Monte asked.

"Yes," Denny answered. "If I remember the owner rebuilt the place after we let it burn."

"Yeah, but that was a weird one. He had to be the one who ordered that fire started." Monte said.

"And then rebuilt it?" Denny questioned. "No someone else ordered that one. Had to be. It is the only explanation."

Just then the siren went off. Bert turned to Denny. "Do we have another fire ordered?" He asked Denny.

"Yes, but this one is not supposed to be burned to the ground. We are to contain it," Denny answered. Just enough damage so the owner can get the insurance company to repair some existing problems. We better get moving."

5.5

Perry, Della and Paul were just finishing dinner. Paul drank the last of his coffee and stood up. "I better check on the boys and see if anything is going on. You two have fun."

Perry and Della watched the private detective leave. "Well that leaves just the two of us, "Della said. "What's wrong, Perry," she asked when she saw the look on his face.

"I just realized that Paul stuck me with the check."

Della laughed. "Just pay it, Counselor. He earns a free dinner from you now and then."

Perry took his wallet out of his pocket and placed a few bills on the table, adding in a generous tip. "Are you interested in dancing till dawn?"

"I am interested in dancing but not until dawn. We both have to be in the office early tomorrow," she answered him.

"Okay, let's go across the street," Perry said with a smile. He helped Della into her coat then took her by the elbow and led her across the street to a bar that had a band. Perry picked a secluded table. He helped Della out of her coat and hung it over her chair. Just as he was about to lead her toward the dance floor, Hamilton Burger and Lt. Tragg walled over to their table.

"Leaving the office kind of early, aren't you, Perry?" Burger said.

Perry smiled. "We do occasionally get out of the office before midnight. Would you like to join us?"

"We have our own tab... " Burger began.

"Don't mind if we do," Tragg interrupted as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

Reluctantly, Hamilton sat down. He got the feeling Della and Perry wanted to be alone. He felt like they were intruding. Hamilton was sure Perry was just being polite.

"So Mason, how come you are not out with Drake discovering dead bodies?" Tragg asked.

Mason smiled again. "You really do not think we go looking for them, do you?"

"You certainly discover more dead bodies than any other lawyer in town," Tragg smirked.

"Only by chance. We don't go looking for them," Della said, defending Perry.

"What were you doing over at the fire station?" Tragg asked.

Perry and Della exchanged a glance. "What makes you think I was at the fire station?" Perry asked.

"I have my sources," Tragg answered. "Were you there to see a client?"

Perry just looked at Tragg and smiled.

"Lt. Tragg is interested because a couple insurance companies think fires in this area are being set on purpose," Hamilton told them.

"Since when is arson investigated by homicide?" Perry inquired.

"Since I got an anonymous tip that the fire last night was arson," Hamilton said.

"You got a tip?" Della said with surprise.

Hamilton turned to Della. "Yes. I called Tragg. He is checking into it as a favor to me."

"So what do you know about it?" Tragg asked Perry again.

"What makes you think I know anything about it?" Perry asked.

"Come on Mason. You were at the fire station. Drake has been making inquiries on fires in the past few months. Andy caught him at a fire in the middle of the night. Was he there at your request?"

Again Mason smiled. "Now you know I can't tell you that."

"Why is it, whenever there is something going on, you are right smack dab in the middle of it?" Tragg asked

Perry looked perplexed. "Am I?"

Hamilton covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile. Perry was being evasive and Hamilton knew how much that drove Tragg crazy.

"You know you are, Mason."

"Would you believe I just don't know anything about the fires?" Perry said in a pleasant tone.

"No. Whenever you act like this, you know something," Tragg grumbled.

"Act like what, Lieutenant?" Perry asked innocently.

Hamilton could barely contain his amusement. He had been on the receiving end of Perry's evasiveness before. Tragg was not going to get any information out of him. Perry was protecting a client. And when Mason was protecting a client, one might as well take a cub from a lioness. The comparison was the same.

"Never mind!" Tragg snapped. Then an idea came to him. If Mason was going to mess up his evening, then he would do the same to him. "Della, would you like to dance?"

Della looked to Perry who said and did nothing. "I would love to, Arthur." She got up and took Tragg's arm. He gave Mason a wicked grin as he led Della to the dance floor.

Hamilton had a slight smile on his face. "You know he did that on purpose. He will keep Della on the dance floor and away from you for the rest of the evening."

"That's alright, Hamilton, because when all is said and done, it is me that Della will be leaving with." Perry watch as Tragg whirled Della around the dance floor. _Enjoy yourself Tragg. Dancing with Della will never change the fact that she belongs to me._

5.6

The fire raed on. Seth hated fires in high rises. They could be impossible to contain at times. This one started in an utility room. Someone had been smoking in the room. A witness had confirmed a man had left the room as he threw his cigarette to the floor and appeared to have stepped on it as he left the utility room.

The fire was spreading despite the all out efforts of Denny Boulder who immediately called in a second alarm upon arrival.

Seth and Ted Jacoby held the hoses on the fire on the fifth floor. Boulder came up behind them. "Keep it on the ceiling. If we lose it here, we are in real trouble."

Seth had once again been paired with Ted Jacoby. Neither of them spoke to the other, both still reeling from their confirmation earlier. Seth had wanted to call Mr. Mason and tell him about what had happened but the fire alarm had made that impossible.

Bert Fielder and Marcus Shepherd came running up to Boulder. "Denny, I thought we were supposed to contain this one," Fielder shouted.

Seth looked at Fielder. "What its that supposed to mean. We are supposed to put it out."

Boulder gave Fielder a look that shut him up. "What the hell are the two of you doing here? Get back down to the other end of the floor and don't leave your post again!"

Suddenly there was an explosion at the other end of the building. Boulder spoke into his walkie talkie. "Mitch, what the hell is going on down there?"

"We lost it! It is spreading to the sixth floor! You better call in a third alarm!"

"Damn it!" Boulder yelled. He got back on and called the station. "This is Denny Boulder. Call in a third alarm! We are losing it!"

He looked at Fielder and Shepherd. "What are you two still standing here for? Get back to your post!"

Boulder turned to Palmer and Jacoby. "I am clearing this floor with the exception of the two of you on this side and Bert and Marcus on the other side. Get it back under control." Boulder left them.

"How much do you suppose they are making on this one?" Ted Jacoby yelled over the raging fire.

"What are you talking about?" Seth shouted.

"For letting the fire spread?"

"You are crazy. Boulder has done everything he should have done."

Jacoby laughed. "Sure he has. Just like the other fires where the buildings burned to the ground."

"Are you saying he deliberately allowed those fires to burn?" Seth asked.

"What do you think? You were at the last one. Did Boulder do everything that he could to stop that one?"

Seth thought about it. He had told Mason that is was as if Boulder had wanted the fire to spread. Maybe Jacoby was right. Maybe there was more to this that what was going on right now. "Were you blackmailing them?"

Just as Jacoby was about to answer him, Seth felt a stinging pain in the back of his head as everything went black.

When he awoke the smoke was thicker. He could not see Ted Jacoby anywhere. "Ted! Ted, where are you? There was no answer. Palmer got up. He took a few steps forward and yelled for Jacoby again. Still no answer. He stumbled over something and fell. As Seth started to get back on his feet, he realized it had been a body that he had stumbled over. He knelt down. Ted Jacoby was laying in a pool of blood.l

"Ted! Ted!" He shouted. Jacoby did not respond. Palmer reached down to check Jacoby's pulse. That was when he spotted it. A gun was there beside Jacoby. Palmer picked it up and rose to a standing position. No it couldn't be! How could it possibly be here.

"Seth, where is Ted?" Boulder shouted. Marcus and Bert were with him.

"What?" Palmer asked as he turned toward them, the gun still in his hand.

Bert bent down when he spotted Jacoby on the floor. He checked his neck for signs of life. "He's been shot. He's dead."

Seth Palmer stood there holding the gun in his hand staring down at at the lifeless body of Ted Jacoby.


	6. Chapter 6

The case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 06

6.1

Lt. Arthur Tragg looked down at Seth Palmer who was sitting in a chair. "So you say you were hit on the head."

Seth wiped the sweat off his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"As many times as I ask you. I don't think you understand the trouble you are in Mr. Palmer. You were found standing over the dead body with the murder weapon in your hand. Earlier today, you threaten to kill the murder victim. Hours later he is dead."

"If you confess to killing Mr. Jacoby I will not ask for the death penalty." Hamilton Burger said as he sat behind his desk.

"I did not kill him. I already told you that. Someone must have done it while I was out."

"Your only chance is a plea bargain," Burger told him.

"I thought I am entitled to have a lawyer present during questioning."

"You called your lawyer. I have to tell you it does not look good for you to hide behind him. If you have nothing to hide then why don't you talk to us?" Burger asked.

There was a knock on the door. Burger sighed. "Better let him in Tragg." Lt. Tragg opened the door. Perry Mason stepped inside.

"I am glad you are here, Mr. Mason. They are trying to get me to confess to Ted's murder," Palmer said excitedly.

Mason looked at Burger and Tragg. "Why gentlemen I am surprised at you. Did you tell him he had a right to have a lawyer present during questioning?"

Burger smiled. "Why of course we did."

"Let' go Seth," Mason said taking Palmer by the arm.

"More just a moment," Burger said. "We are not finished yet."

"Yes you are. Is my client being charged?"

"Not yet, Perry." Tragg said "But it would be better if ..."

Mason pulled Palmer to his feet. "We will be going then."

"Just a minute Perry," Tragg said. "We want to talk to you."

Perry turned to Seth. "Wait for me outside." Palmer headed for the door.

"Don't leave town, Mr. Palmer." Palmer looked at Tragg and left the room.

"You know better than to question my clients without me present, Perry complained."

"Now take it easy, Mason. If he has nothing to hide then there is no reason not for him to talk to us." Tragg lit up a cigarette.

"Look Perry, I don't think you have all the facts. Your client was found standing over the body with the murder weapon in his hand," Burger said.

"Hamilton, you know as well as I do that many people pick up a murder weapon out of shock when discovering a dead body. It is quite common," Perry said.

"That is true but usually those people cooperate and don't hide behind a lawyer," Tragg stared directly into Mason's eyes.

Mason looked returned the stare and responded, "They might not have to if they were not pressured into confessing to crimes they did not commit."

"Just a minute. We were not pressuring him into confessing," Burger protested.

Mason turned to leave. "Perry, make sure your client is available," Tragg warned.

"And you make sure I am present if you interrogate him again," Perry warned him right back. He opened the door and left the room.

Seth Palmer was leaning on the wall. He straightened up and walked toward Mason. "Mr. Mason, you have to believe me. I did not kill Ted Jacoby."

"Not here Seth. Wait till we reach the car." Mason told him. They walked to the car in silence. When they arrived at Mason's Cadillac, he motioned for Palmer to get in. Perry started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. "Alright, tell me what happened and don't leave anything out."

"There really is not much to tell. We got a call to put out a fire in an office building. I was paired with Ted."

"Do you always work in pairs?"

"Yes sir. That way if someone gets in trouble the other one can either help him or call for help if needed. Anyway, Ted and I were talking about the guys letting the fire burn out of control. I asked him if he had been blackmailing them. He was just about to tell me when someone clobbered me from behind. The next thing I knew I woke up and I could not see Ted anywhere. The smoke was thicker"

When he paused, Mason urged him to continue. "Then what happened?"

"I tripped over something. When I looked down, that is when I saw Ted. He was lying on the floor. He eyes were staring straight ahead. I knew he was dead. I was shocked, Mr. Mason. I saw the gun that was there beside him. I don't know why but I picked it up. That was when ..."

"That was when... what?" Perry asked.

"Well I don't know for sure but I think it was my gun," Seth told him.

Perry did not like the sound of this. "What makes you think it was your gun?"

"It had one of those engraving plates on the bottom of the handle. My father's initials were on the plate. At least I think they were."

But you don't know for sure?"

"No sir. I could not read the letters with all the smoke that was in the hall."

"What kind of gun do you own?"

"I have two guns. A rifle for hunting and a hand gun ...a twenty two."

"The gun you picked up...was it a twenty two?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason. There was no doubt about it."

"Was it registered?"

Yes, of course."

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Palmer lowered his eyes. "What is it? Don't leave anything out."

"Earlier, I went down to my locker at work. I saw Ted stuff something in my locker. Then he started stuffing envelopes in the other lockers. When I accused him of putting something in the locker, he denied it. I opened my locker in front of him. It was another of those ransom notes that said I better have the money there tomorrow or he was going to reveal what happened... that I killed that man."

"Where is the note now?" Mason asked.

Palmer thought for a moment. "Oh my god!"

"What?"

"It is on the floor in the locker room."

"That means someone could have seen it."

Seth got a sick feeling. "Mr. Mason, Denny and Bert came into the locker room."

"Then they could have pick it up" Mason surmised.

"It is worse than that. I told Ted that I was not going to pay one cent in blackmail money. He said if I didn't, he would make sure everyone knew I killed that man. I lost my temper, Mr. Mason. I started punching him and ..."

"Go on," Mason said.

"I threaten to kill him. I know it was stupid. I just lost my temper."

Mason shook his head. It was stupid, Seth but understandable. Unfortunately if the gun is indeed yours, that note and the other firemen's testimony are enough to get you the death penalty."

"But I did not kill him." Seth Palmer looked at Mason in desperation. "Can you help me Mr. Mason?"

"I am going to try. Unless Tragg is slipping, my guess is he will be arresting you later today. We are going to use this time to our advantage. We are going back to the fire station."

6.2

Paul wrapped his code knock on the office door of Perry Mason. As usual he did not have long to wait. It was opened by Della Street. "Hello beautiful." He looked at Della and smiled. Paul looked around the office. "Where's the boss?"

Della offered him a cup of coffee. She poured it and then handed it to the detective. "You have not heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Seth Palmer was taken to the police station for questioning."

"Questioning about what?"

"The murder of Ted Jacoby" Della answered.

"Oh boy" responded the private detective.

"Yes, oh boy is right. You don't know the half of it. Perry called a few minutes ago to tell me they were headed for the fire station to look for a ransom note that Seth had left behind."

"He dropped the ransom note and Tragg let him go. What about the murder weapon?" Paul took a sip of coffee and then lit up a cigarette.

"From what Perry said, I don't think Tragg knows about the ransom note yet. But he does know that Seth was found standing over his body with a gun in his hand." Della sighed and sat on the edge of Perry's desk.

"Whose gun?"

"Seth told Perry he believes it is his gun.

"Oh boy," Paul said again. Does Perry think Palmer killed Jacoby?"

"No, in fact he is certain he did not."

"Well it is only a matter of time before Tragg finds out that the gun is Palmer's," Paul said.

"In the meantime, what happened at the post office," Della asked.

"Nothing. No one showed up but then if Jacoby was the blackmailer that is not surprising." Paul grounded out his cigarette. "Tell Perry to call me when he gets in." He got up, handed Della his coffee cup and headed for the door. Grabbing the knob, he turned and smiled at her. "Goodbye Beautiful."

Returning the smile, Della said, "Goodbye Paul."

6.3

"What the hell are we going to do?" Marcus asked.

"We are going to do nothing," Denny said. "The less we do, the less attention we draw to ourselves."

"But what if the police discover we were being blackmailed?" Mitch looked up from his coffee. "If they find that out, they are going to come looking for us. They will forget all about Palmer."

Bert took a swig of his bottle of Coke. "You think so? You mean they would just ignore the fact that Seth was standing over the body with a gun in his hand? Stop worrying. The only thing the police is going to do is tighten the noose around Palmer's neck."

"I think there is another problem that we have not considered." Everyone turned and looked at Monte Skinner.

"And just what would that be?" Bert asked.

"Seth has retained Perry Mason as his attorney."

"So what?" Denny Boulder looked at Monte. "Who cares what lawyer he hires? He was found standing over the body with a gun in his hand. If that was the murder weapon and I have no doubt it was, then he is not going to beat a murder rap no matter who defends him."

Mitch stood up from the poker table in Boulder's basement. "Monte is right. Mason is a problem. I would not be so quick to dismiss him. His record of getting people off is unbelievable."

"That is because he has been fortunate enough to never have defended a guilty client," Bert said. "This time his client is guilty."

"I am not so sure." Marcus looked at Bert. "Mason is very good at reading people. He would not have taken the case if he believed Palmer was guilty. Just the fact that Mason is willing to defend him makes me wonder."

"Then how the hell do you explain the gun in his hand, standing there over the body," Boulder demanded.

"What would your reaction be if you stumbled over a dead body? You would be shocked …right?" Marcus continued.

"What is shocking about the fact that that dirty blackmailing weasel bought it?" Bert blew out smoke from his cigarette.

"That is just the attitude that could have the police looking at us instead of Palmer." Mitch walked over to the window and stared out. "Of course none of us has to worry about that unless one of us in this room is the murderer."

"That's ridiculous, Mitch," Denny almost shouted.

"Is it?" Mitch walked back to the table. "Everyone one of us had a motive to kill the bastard. All of us were being blackmailed by him. Take a look around. Do any of us really know the others well enough to say that none of us is capable of murder under these circumstances?"

"I don't care if someone in this room did kill him," Bert snarled. "Hell, I would buy him a drink. One of us in this room had the guts to do what had to be done."

"So you don't believe that Seth did it either," Mitch pointed out.

"I didn't say that. I just don't care who did it and if I knew, I would not turn him in." Bert grinned. "He did us all a favor."

"What if Mason finds out we were all being blackmailed?" Marcus asked.

"How?" Denny reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is a copy of the latest blackmail that was stuffed in our lockers. The real letters are in a safety deposit box. That is where they will stay unless one of you gets any bright ideas about going to Mason or the police. Everyone keep your heads. After Seth is convicted, we will go back to business as usual."

"He is not going to be convicted not with Mason defending him," Mitch argued. "Forget about Seth. Mason is the problem.

"Just keep your cool and we will all be fine." Denny warned them. If any of you look you are going to betray the rest of us then Mason will get a copy of the ransom note and the rest of will swear that you were the only being blackmailed."

"What about you, Denny?" Mitch said indignantly. "Who makes sure you don't blab to the wrong people?"

"Come on guys. We have to stick together on this one. We have been okay up until now, haven't we?" Bert looked at each one of them individually. "Quit worrying. Even if Mason does get him off, as long as we stick together, no one will ever know anything about what we have been doing. The best part is we will be able to continue making money."

No one said anything further but they all wondered if Seth Palmer did indeed murder Ted Jacoby or was one of them responsible?

6.4

Perry Mason and Seth Palmer entered the fire station. Seth led Perry to the locker room. "Show me where you were when you dropped the ransom note."

Seth headed over to his own locker. "Right here. I saw Ted stuff the envelope in several other lockers as well."

"Did you see which lockers he was stuffing with envelopes?"

"Mr. Mason, I have been racking my brain trying to remember which ones. I honestly cannot be sure. He walked down this line of lockers and put them in five other lockers besides mine." Seth's eyes widen. "That is the exact number of guys I have been working with."

"Are any of their lockers along this wall," Perry asked him.

Palmer nodded. "Every one of them. You don't suppose that Ted was blackmailing them too, do you?"

"It is a possibility. One we will be looking into." Perry walked down the line of lockers, counting them as he went. "There are twenty five lockers on this wall." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and a pen. Perry began writing down the names on all twenty five lockers. He turned back to Seth. "Is there a possibility of eliminating any of these people?"

"Yes, sir. He did not go past my locker, which is number fifteen."

"So that means he stuffed that ransom note in five of those fifteen and every one of your buddies is in that fifteen. We will concentrate on those people." Perry put the notebook back in his coat pocket. "When are those fireman on duty again?"

"They are on duty right now as a matter of fact. I am supposed to be as well. Denny told me to report to work as soon as Lt. Tragg was through with me."

"You stay here," he ordered his client. "Join us in about ten minutes."

"Where are you going to do?"

"Well if one of your friends is involved in the murder than I think it time to smoke them out," Perry said with a smile.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"By lighting a fire under them," Perry said. "I have a few more questions about those five and then I want you to stay here." Perry spent five minutes questing Seth about his co-workers than said again. "Stay here." Seth did as he was told. Perry headed upstairs to find the five firemen. He could hear voices as soon as he entered the floor. It was coming from a room up the hall to his left. He followed the voices. Perry stood outside the door but could not make out what they were saying. He knocked on the door to announce his presence.

The door opened. A man in his thirties looked at Mason. His expression told the lawyer that the man recognized him. "I would like to talk to you and the others. My name is Perry Mason. I'm an attorney. I am representing Seth Palmer."

"Come in Mr. Mason," Boulder said. He opened the door wider to allow room for the big lawyer to enter. "Guys, this is Perry Mason, Seth's lawyer."

Mason looked around the room in what appeared to be a casual glance. However, his trained eye was taking everything in. "Hello, gentlemen, I would like to talk to all of you."

"Did they arrest Seth," Monte asked.

"No. They released him. He will be into work very shortly. I would like to discuss the fire."

"What for? Didn't you ask Seth what happened?" Bert's tone was anything but friendly.

Mason smiled but took note of Fielder's hostility. "Yes, he did but I would like to hear what happened from you.

"I am not helping a murderer, Mason. Ted was a friend of mine. I have no intentions of helping you get Palmer off." Fiedler got up and started to leave the room.

"Mr. Palmer has not been charged with anything at this point, Mr. Fielder," Perry said casually stepping in front of the door."

"Obviously, you figure he will be or you would not be representing him. And don't think I didn't notice you blocking my way. Now are you going to get out of my way or do I go through you?"

Mitch started to laugh. "Good luck with that, Bert or don't you see the size of this guy?"

Perry stepped aside. "You may leave anytime you want. I was not seeking a confrontation …simply some help. I didn't think any of you would mind talking to me unless of course …you have something to hide."

"The last time I saw you, you claimed to be a reporter who wanted to interview me. Now this time you are a lawyer. What will it be next time an IRS agent?"

"Sorry about that but I was not ready to reveal the reasons I was here. Do you have something to hide, Mr. Fielder? Unclaimed income?"

"Go to hell, Mason." Bert Fielder pushed his way past Mason and left the room.

"I am sorry about Bert's behavior, Mr. Mason. He was particularly close to Ted. I think under the circumstances you can understand."

"No, I am not sure I understand at all. I was under the impression the two could not stand one another," Perry said.

Boulder took his remark in stride. "I don't know what gave you that idea, Mason, but you obviously don't understand anything about what we do. We have to trust one another. Our lives depend on it. Now if you will excuse us, we have work to do."

"You will have to answer my questions sooner or later, Mr. Boulder," Mason said. "Why don't you tell me where each of you were during the time Jacoby was murdered."

"You never give up do you?" Bert said re-entering the room. He sat back down at the table. "Each one of us was paired up with another firefighter. The only one that was with Ted Jacoby was your client," Bert snarled. "Why don't you just get out of here? We don't have anything to say to you."

"Why, Mr. Fielder? Do you have something to hide," Perry said. "Where were you when Ted Jacoby was murdered?" Bert stood up, knocked over the chair he had been occupying and lurched toward Mason. Denny Boulder stepped in between Fielder and Mason.

"Knock it off, Bert," Boulder yelled. "Mason, you are finished here. Now get out and don't come back."

"You're lucky Mason, if Denny had not stopped me I would have …!"

"You would have what? Killed me. Was there no one to step between you and Jacoby?" Mason taunted.

"Get out Mason!" Boulder shouted at the attorney.

Mason turned to leave. Fielder was not finished yet. "Don't come back here, Mason, if you know what is good for you."

Mason turned and looked Fielder in the eye. "My client did not kill Ted Jacoby. I intend to find out who did. Right now, the five of you are at the top of my list. Have a pleasant day, gentlemen. I am sure we will run into one another again." Mason turned on his heels and left the room.

When he arrived back where he had left Palmer, he said, "Why didn't you join me?"

Lt. Tragg stepped into view. "I am sorry, Perry. You can blame me. I did not want to let him out of my sight."

"What's this all about, Tragg?" Mason asked although he already knew the answer.

"The gun has been traced. Seems it belongs to your client, Perry. We also got a tip from one of the firemen here that your client was being blackmailed by Ted Jacoby. So you see, we have motive, opportunity and we have the murder weapon which just happens to be registered to your client and his finger prints are all over it. I am placing your client under arrest for the murder of Ted Jacoby." Tragg turned to Seth Palmer. He cited him his rights and then said, "You will have to come with me, Mr. Palmer."

Palmer turned to Perry Mason with panic written all over his face. "Go with him Seth. Don't talk to anyone. Refer them to me. I'll see you in the morning."

As Tragg led Seth away, he turned and said triumphantly so Mason was sure to hear him, "Andy, go ahead and go upstairs. Question those fireman." He grinned at Mason as he opened his car door and motioned for Palmer to get in. "We'll be seeing you, Perry." Tragg got in the car and drove away.

"Don't let him get to you," Anderson said.

Perry turned around. "He hasn't. This has only just begun."

"Look, Perry, I have got to tell you …you can't win this one. If ever there was an open and shut case this is it. Maybe you had better consider plea bargain. I am sure Burger would work with you."

"Plea bargain? I would be doing my client an injustice. He's innocent Andy and I intend to prove it." Mason walked away and headed for his car. After he got in, he reached for his phone and dialed his office.

"Perry Mason's office," Gertie answered.

"Gertie, put me through to Della."

"Yes, Mr. Mason." He did not have long to wait.

"Perry, where are you. I thought you were going to back before this," Della said.

"Della, listen, Tragg arrested Seth for murder. Call Paul. Have him meet us for dinner. We need to get started right away. I want those five fireman put under a microscope. And Della, thanks for staying."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Are you alright, Perry?"

"Yes, I am fine. I just know in my gut this kid is not guilty of murder but we will have an uphill battle proving it."

"We have been there before. You'll prove it. I have confidence in you," Della said softly.

Perry smiled. She always knew how to pick him up. "I am on my way to the office right now. Call Paul." Mason hung up the phone determined to find out what those firemen had been up to.


	7. Chapter 7

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 07

7.1

Della heard the private door to Perry's office slam. She got up from her desk, walked over to the main door into his office and went in.

"Did you reach Paul to meet us for dinner?" he asked.

Della nodded. "He said to call him as soon as you arrived." Della reached for the phone and dialed Paul's office. "Would you tell that Mr. Mason is back?" She hung up the phone. "He will be down in a few minutes."

"Something about that Bert Fielder really bothers me. He is short-tempered, aggressive and confrontational."

"Do you think he could have killed Ted Jacoby?"

"If Jacoby was blackmailing him, I think he could be capable of it."

"But Perry, you have no proof that Jacoby was blackmailing anyone except Seth."

Paul's code knock sounded on the private door into Mason's office. Della walked over and opened it.

"Hi, Beautiful," Paul smiled. "Hi, Perry."

"Hi, Paul. Tragg showed up at the fire station and arrested Palmer."

"So I heard. This is one you ought to walk away from, Perry. They found him standing over the body with the murder weapon in his hand which by the way just happened to be his gun. He was being blackmailed by the deceased and threatened to kill him in front of witnesses. They have him dead to rights, Perry."

"Except I don't believe he did it," Mason said.

"What does it take to convince you? They have motive, opportunity, and he was holding his gun... the murder weapon."

"He didn't do it, Paul. We have had clients before where it looked hopeless but we broke those cases. We are going to break this one as well."

"Okay, Perry, what do you want me to do?" Paul asked.

"We will discuss that over dinner. Let's get something to eat," Perry said. He took Della's elbow and led her to the door.

"Now that is the most sensible thing you have said since I got here," Paul said with a grin.

Della chose an Oriental restaurant. After reading the menu, Della ordered for the three of them. Many years of dining with the two of them while on cases, enabled her to know what both of them liked and didn't like.

While waiting for their food to be served, Perry was quiet while he considered which direction he would take the case. Both Della and Paul knew when to leave him to his thoughts. "Paul, I want everything you can get on those five firemen that work with Palmer. Check their bank records. Find out if any of them are depositing or withdrawing large sums of money. I want to know if any of them are living beyond their means. One of them, or all of them are involved in Ted Jacoby's murder. I am sure of it."

"What about Brad Stout? Do you still want my men to continue following him?" Paul asked.

"Have they found out anything new?" Perry asked.

"We had some trouble finding a bank account in his name but finally came up with a Wells Fargo account, and Perry, this guy has money coming in from an unknown source. Different amounts."

"Do they coincide with the fires that those five firemen were at?" Perry asked.

"All deposits were within one month of when a fire took place. I would guess that Brad Stout is arranging the fires with the owners of the buildings and is paid once the fires are set and the insurance is paid," Paul said.

"That is the problem, Paul. I cannot go into court guessing. I must be able to prove it in a court of law. Keep checking. What about Stout? Where has he been going? Have you found any connection between Stout and any of the firemen?"

"Nothing yet, but then I have not had time to find out anything about those firemen yet."

"Put more men on it if you have to. Burger will go for a quick hearing date to try to keep us from doing much investigating. One last thing, do some further checking on that fire that happened five years ago. I have a nagging feeling that somehow the two fires are related."

"This is going to run up quite a bill. Can your client afford this kind of an investigation?" Paul asked.

"Let me worry about that. Just give me something to go into court with."

"When will Palmer be arraigned?" Paul asked.

"In the morning so I will talk to you around noon. Check in with me and let me know what you have found out." Perry put his hand up for the check. Paul reached into his pocket. "I got it," Perry said. He reached into his suit coat, pulled out his wallet, took out enough to cover the bill with a generous tip and dropped it on the table. Paul said goodnight and Perry and Della left in his Cadillac.

Della noticed that Perry was headed in the opposite direction of either of their apartments. "Just where are we going, Chief?"

"To divide and conquer," Mason said.

7.2

Perry and Della arrived at the home of Monte Skinner. "They must be paying firemen a lot more than I thought," Della observed.

"I don't think so, Della. It looks like Mr. Skinner is living high on the hog. It will be interesting to ask him to explain this house on his salary."

Perry shut off the engine, got out of the Cadillac and went around to the passenger side of the vehicle where he helped Della out of the car. They walked up to the house and Perry rang the doorbell.

A woman in her thirties opened the door. "It is awfully late for a social call."

The lawyer smiled. "My name is Mason and this is my confidential secretary, Della Street. I would like to speak with Monte Skinner."

"Who is it, Joyce?" Monte called out from inside the house.

"A lawyer named Mason," she told him.

Skinner pulled the door open. "What are you doing here, Mason?"

"I would like to speak with you, Mr. Skinner," Mason told him.

"I don't have anything to say to you." Skinner pulled his wife inside and began closing the door.

"You will have to talk to me sooner or later, Mr. Skinner. Either now or in court. I don't think you will want me asking you how you afford a place like this on a fireman's pay. Because you will have to if you do not talk to me now."

Skinner slowly opened the door. "Come on in."

Perry and Della entered what was a very large foyer. Two enormous rooms on each side of the foyer were visible. On the left was a large drawing room obviously used for entertaining. Further down the foyer was a kitchen big enough to prepare food for a very large restaurant. On the right side a sunroom every bit as big as either the drawing room, provided enough sun for anyone to maintain one's vitamin D level without ever leaving the house. Further down the right side of the foyer was a library full of books and a grand piano that rivaled any of those of a concert pianist would own. At the end of the long foyer was a staircase that spiraled around with a huge crystal chandelier that illuminated the entire staircase and a good deal of the foyer.

"This is magnificent," Della whispered to Perry.

Skinner led them into the drawing room. "Please sit down and tell me what it is that you want."

"You did not say much when I was at the fire station earlier," Mason stated.

"I had nothing to say," Skinner said.

"What happened at that fire?"

"Look, Mr. Mason, I don't believe that Seth killed Ted. He doesn't have it in him but I can't help you. I was not on that floor. I did not see what happened."

"Do you know if Ted Jacoby was blackmailing the other men in your squad?" Mason nodded to Della who pulled out a steno pad and pen as she began taking notes.

The expression on Skinner's face darkened slightly. "I would not know about that. I mind my own business."

"What does a fireman earn after five years on the job ...provided he had done a good job and was deserving of a promotion?"

Skinner was showing discomfort. "You can look it up, Mason. It is public knowledge."

"I did look it up, Mr. Skinner. It certainly would not pay for what I see here," Mason said.

Joyce Skinner entered the room. "It is none of your business but if you must know, my father died and left us money. The house was purchased with those funds. Now I think you should leave."

"Alright," Mason said. "But before I do, what can you tell me about Bert Fielder?"

"What is there to tell? I work with him. But like I said, I mind my own business."

"Where were you when Ted Jacoby was murdered?"

"I told you I was not even on the same floor. I had nothing to do with it."

"Where exactly were you, Mr. Skinner?" Perry asked again.

"I don't know where I was. I only know where I wasn't ... on the floor where Ted was murdered. Now, I think it is time for you to leave. I have nothing else to tell you. I hope you get Seth off but there is nothing further I can do to help him or you."

Perry stood up. Della put away her pen and steno pad. Skinner walked them to the front door. "Oh, I almost forgot." Mason reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper and handed it to Monte Skinner.

"What's this?"

"It is a subpoena. You are a witness for the defense."

"I told you I don't know anything."

"I believe you know a lot more than you are telling me. If you won't answer my questions now, you can tell me under oath." Perry took Della's elbow and led her to and out the front door.

"What did you think, Della?" he asked.

"He did not buy that house with a fireman's paycheck."

"Call Paul first thing in the morning and have him find out how much Joyce Skinner's father left them when he died."

"You don't think she is telling the truth?" Della asked.

"I don't think much of what either of them told us was the truth," Mason replied. "Of that I am certain."

7.3

Perry drove toward his apartment in silence. Della also remained silent. She knew when to leave him alone and this was one of those times when he needed to make sense of things. He had not been able to get the image of Monte Skinner's house out of his mind. There was no way the man was paying for that place on what he made. Perry wondered just how long he had owned the place. Could it be as Joyce Skinner had said? Could it be that simple? He doubted it. Both of them were too evasive with their answers. No, Perry needed to find out more about Monte Skinner, regardless that Seth considered him a close friend. He was probably involved in the insurance fraud. It would explain all the expensive things in that house including the house itself. But could it also explain murder?

Perry pulled the car into his spot in the parking garage. Della looked at him and said, "Maybe I should stay at my place tonight so that you get a good night's sleep. You look so tired."

Perry reached for her hand. He kissed it and smiled at her. "You know fully well I sleep much better when you are in my arms. I would like you to stay with me unless you would rather not."

Della shook her head. "Now you know better than that, counselor."

He grinned at her. "Then it is settled." He shut off the vehicle, got out of the car, went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Della. He put his arm around her and they slowly walked to the door of the building.

A car went racing by. The window opened. A hand holding a gun appeared through the window. Perry caught only a glimpse of the gun but it was enough to send him into action. He grabbed Della and dove to the pavement. As shots rang above their heads, Perry covered Della's petite body with his large frame. He tried to read the license plate number but the vehicle was traveling too fast. It did not stop but continued out of the parking garage at a high rate of speed.

Another vehicle pulled into the garage and screeched to a halt. The door flung open and Lt. Andy Anderson jumped out of the vehicle. "Are you two alright?" He ran over to the couple still lying on the pavement.

Andy helped Della up and then extended his hand to Perry. The lawyer took it and Andy pulled him to his feet. "Did you get a look at the driver?" Perry asked him.

"No. I heard the shots as I was driving close by. The vehicle went racing by. I called it in but thought someone might need help. You didn't get the license number?"

"No, I was busy trying to keep Della and me from being shot," Perry replied.

The radio in Andy's car chirped. He stepped to the car, reached in the window and grabbed the receiver. "Sorry Lieutenant, he got away," the voice said.

"Thanks, Jimmy." Andy turned to Perry and said, "Do you have any idea who it may have been?"

"I have an idea, but I don't have any proof," Perry said as he brushed the dirt from his suit.

"Perry, I need to talk to you," Andy said.

"So you were not just passing by?" Della asked.

"I am afraid not," Andy answered. He looked back at Perry. "It has come to our attention that you have in your possession a video taken five years ago at the Claymore Apartment Complex. And since I know you would not want to withhold evidence, I am asking you to turn it over to me."

"I hadn't even had time to give it a thought, Andy. We have been busy since the minute Tragg arrested my client."

"That is alright, Perry. I already knew it was something like that but I thought I better pick it up before Lt. Tragg found out about it."

"It is not here, I am afraid. It is at the office. Do you want it right away or can you drop by the office in the morning?"

"I'll get it tomorrow. I'll also file a report on this shooting but the chances of finding out who did it are not good."

"Yes, I know. By the way, Andy, how did you know about the video?"

"We got a phone call. And before you ask, the caller would not identify himself."

"Thanks, Andy," Perry said.

Anderson turned to go when a thought struck him. "Can I give you a lift home, Della? I might as well save Perry the trip since your place is on the way."

Della looked up at Perry. "Are we done for the night, Chief?"

"Actually Della, I really wanted to work on our defense for Seth Palmer. Burger is probably going to ask for an immediate trial."

Andy smiled. "That is what you get for working for Los Angeles' premier defense attorney. He's a slave driver."

"Oh, but he pays me well," Della said.

"He'd better. Well, good night folks. Be careful when you take Della home, Perry." Andy got into his car and drove away.

Perry put his key in the door of the complex and unlocked it. After Della walked through, he made sure the door was closed and led Della to the elevator to his floor and apartment. Once they were safely inside, Perry put the chain on the door and turned the home alarm to "stay". He removed his suit coat, draped it over the chair and headed for the kitchen. "How about a nightcap before we turn in?"

"I thought you told Andy that we are going to work on the case?" she smiled.

Perry came back with two glasses of wine. He handed Della one of them and sat down beside her on the couch. "Part of the case is keeping the defense attorney happy." He kissed her lightly and drew back so that he could see her expression.

"And don't I do that part of the job well?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You will get no complaints from me," he grinned, displaying cheek-long dimples.

Della laughed at him, took another sip of wine and said, "I think we need to turn in. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

Perry got up, pulled Della to her feet and the two walked down the hall with an arm around each other's waist.

7.4

It was two thirty in the morning. He parked the car beside Mason's Cadillac. After getting out of the car, he walked to the back of the vehicle, opened the trunk and pulled out a .45 Colt and placed it in his waist band. He walked over to the door of the complex and put the key in the lock. The key turned in the lock and the latch gave way.

He walked down the hall, careful to make sure no one saw him. Getting into the elevator, he pushed the number to Mason's floor. The elevator took him upward and opened. He glanced both ways and headed quietly down the hall. As he passed each room, he glanced at the numbers. Upon reaching Mason's apartment, he tried the door knob. It was locked, just as he expected to find it. He checked his pocket and pulled out a key. Placing the key into the lock, he turned it as quietly as possible and opened the door. He could hear the beeping of the the alarm. He keyed the four digit code and the alarm stopped beeping. Once again reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small flashlight. He pointed it around the room. After spotting the hall, he walked quietly through the apartment with the .45 Colt in hand. He checked to be sure the silencer was in place.

Using the barrel of the Colt, he pushed the first bedroom door open slightly. He lifted the the Colt and pointed to where he knew the bed would be. In one fluid move, he turned on the flashlight, shined it on the bed and fired it into Mason's body.


	8. Chapter 8

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 08

8.1

"Perry," Della whispered, "wake up. Someone is in the apartment."

The sleepy lawyer slowly opened his eyes. He heard the sound of the apartment alarm beeping and then it was silenced. "Della, get up and be quiet about it." She crawled across Perry's side of the bed. The only light in the room was a night light that was plugged into the nearby wall. Mason reached across the bed and grabbed Della's pillow, along with his own. He pulled back the covers and laid the two pillows end to end lengthwise of the bed. He arranged the blanket so that it extended the outline of the pillows toward the foot of the bed and then covered them with the comforter. Reaching in the top drawer of the nightstand, he pulled out a gun. "Get back behind the side of the nightstand," he whispered to her.

Following Perry's instructions, Della knelt down behind the side of the stand. "We both can't fit here. You are exposed to whoever that is," she said with concern for his safety.

"Don't worry about me, you just stay put." He crouched down behind her to try to conceal as much of his large frame as he could as they waited. Perry could not hear anything but he knew someone was out there and he was not about to leave the bedroom until he could get an idea of what they were up against.

He didn't have long to wait when a light flashed across the floor underneath the door. Perry raised his weapon and pointed it at the door. The door was pushed slowly open. Mason put his left hand on top of Della's head and pushed her closer to the floor. He then cupped the barrel of his gun with that hand as he pointed it with his right. The small flashlight flashed into the room on the bed. Mason leaned over the top of Della and crowded the wall as much as possible. Two shots were fired into the pillows. He aimed for the light and pulled the trigger of the thirty-eight he held in his hand. The intruder let out a yelp. His gun fell to the floor along with his flashlight. He turned and ran out of the bedroom, following the same path he had entered.

"Della, are you alright?"

"Yes. My God, Perry, he would have killed you!" she exclaimed.

"It's a good thing you are a lighter sleeper than I am," Mason said, helping Della to her feet. He switched on the lamp beside the bed. "Stay here." Mason went to the door and, carefully reaching around into the hall, he turned on the hall light. Chances of finding the intruder still in his apartment were remote but Mason had seen too many murdered people over the course of his career to let down his guard. He eased down the hall, reached around the corner and turned on the rarely used overhead light in the living room. He and Della appeared to be alone once again. After checking the remaining rooms in the apartment, Perry went over to the alarm, immediately changed the code, armed it and locked the door. "It's alright Della, you can come out. He is gone."

Della joined him in the living room as she watched him pick up the phone and put it back in the cradle. "What's wrong, Perry? Aren't you going to call the police?"

"Not yet." He walked back to the closet in the hall, pulled out a blanket, pillow and sheets. With the bedding in hand, Mason made up the couch. "You need to lie down and wrinkle those sheets." Mason went back into the bedroom. Della did as she was told. She was still lying there when he returned with their robes. "I don't think it would be a good idea to greet the police with nothing on." He handed her a robe that she kept in his apartment for when she stayed overnight.

Perry put his robe on and then dialed a number. He waited a moment and a very groggy voice answered the line, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Andy, this is Perry Mason."

"Mason? Do you know what time it is?" Andy complained.

"I can tell time too, Lieutenant. I am calling because someone just came into my apartment and tried to kill me." Mason could almost hear Andy Anderson sit up straight.

"What! Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, but whoever it was is now sporting a .38 slug somewhere in his body."

"I am on my way, Perry. I don't have to tell you not to touch anything," Andy said and hung up the phone.

"Della, when they get here… we worked late and I decided not to take a chance driving you home. Don't say you slept on the couch. Just lie there and let him think you did."

Within a few minutes the buzzer by the door rang. Perry pushed the button. "Yes."

"Perry, it's Andy. Let us in, will you?"

Mason pushed the button giving Anderson access to the building. A few minutes later, there was a knock at Mason's door. Perry walked over to the door, shut off the alarm and let Andy in. He was followed by Lt. Tragg and three other policemen.

Tragg looked over at Della. "Having a sleep over, are we?" Neither Perry nor Della said anything. "Okay, Perry, what happened?" Tragg asked, still staring at Della.

"We worked late. After having been attacked in the parking lot earlier …"

Arthur Tragg perked up. "You were attacked in the parking lot?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, they were. Someone took pot shots at them. I put in a police report on it," Andy said.

"Alright, then what happened?" Tragg asked.

"I decided it might be better if Della stayed here tonight rather than give our assailant another chance to shoot at us. At about two o'clock, I heard the beeping of the alarm. I set the bed up to look like I was still in it. When the assailant entered my bedroom, he shot two bullets into the pillows. He was using a small flashlight. I aimed for the light and fired. He yelled, dropped the gun and the flashlight and ran out. I checked to make sure Della was all right and called Andy."

Tragg looked at Della. "You did not hear him come in?"

"No, I did not," Della replied.

"And you did not get a look at him either?"

"The lights were out, Lieutenant," Perry interrupted. "Della could not possibly have seen him."

Tragg turned and looked at Perry. "Why thank you, Della." He looked back at her. "Did you see him?"

"No, as Perry said the lights were out. I was sleeping. I could not have seen him in the dark anyway."

Tragg nodded. "Okay, let's see the bedroom." He followed Perry who led him down the hall. Tragg walked over to the bed. "You set this up?" He pointed at the pillows.

"Yes, it gave me time to defend myself," Perry answered.

Tragg took a closer look. "Good thing you weren't in that bed. You would be one dead lawyer." Tragg bent down and looked at the gun on the floor. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a pencil. Putting the pencil in the barrel of the gun, Tragg picked it up. "Andy!"

Anderson walked into the bedroom. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"Put this in one of those bags. Pick up the flashlight as well. Get one of the boys to get a sample of the blood on the floor and take those pillows to the lab so they can dig the bullets out of them."

"Yes, sir. We dusted the door and the alarm for prints as well," Andy informed him.

"The only prints you will find on that door are mine and the housekeeper's," Perry said.

"You are probably right," Tragg agreed. "But we will check anyway."

"Perry, your door wasn't forced," Andy announced, "and the alarm was disarmed successfully with a code. Who else has the code to your door? What about keys to the door downstairs and your apartment door?"

"Della and the housekeeper have keys and the code to the alarm," Perry answered.

"That's it? No one else has keys or the code?" Lt. Tragg asked.

"No, Lieutenant. I am not in the habit of giving out the code or the keys."

Tragg turned to Anderson. "Andy, ask Della to check and see if she has her key to this apartment." Anderson disappeared into the living room. "It is none of my business, Perry, but I like Della, she is a nice kid so I am going to say it anyway. It doesn't look good for her to be staying here alone with you at night in your apartment. I am sure you care about her reputation."

Perry looked directly into Tragg's eyes. "You are right, Lieutenant … it is none of your business." Perry walked out of the bedroom. Tragg followed him out.

"Della has her key, Lieutenant," Andy told Tragg.

"Do you know of someone who would like to kill you, Perry, besides Burger that is?" Tragg asked.

Perry smiled. "I have my suspicions but without more evidence than I have right now, I will keep it to myself."

"Well there is nothing else we can do here tonight. I am going to leave a patrol car outside the building tonight. Do you have a concealed weapons permit, Perry?" Tragg asked.

"Yes but I rarely carry a gun."

"Well under the circumstances, I suggest you start until we can find out who wants you dead. Since the intruder walked right past Della, it is obvious that you were the target so I think Della would be safer in her own apartment. I would be happy to give her a lift home."

Andy decided to intervene before Tragg went too far. "Actually, I think she would be safer on Perry's couch for the night. If the intruder thinks he can get to Perry through Della, she could be in danger."

Tragg gave Andy a look that could kill. "Well then, we will get out of here and let you get some sleep. I suggest you get the lock changed on the door. If we come up with anything, we'll call you." Tragg tipped his hat to Della. "Goodnight, Della." He headed for the door. "Goodnight, Perry." Tragg opened the door and left.

"Sorry, Perry. Tragg was still at the station when I called for help. He insisted on coming when I told him. I will check into this. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Andy, and thanks." Perry walked him to the door. Andy nodded at him and left. Perry locked the door and keyed the alarm. He looked back at Della. "They won't find out a thing. He will have used gloves. It was pitch black. Neither of us can identify the intruder so basically all we have is the blood on the carpet."

"Why didn't you tell Lt. Tragg about the confrontation with Bert Fields?"

"Della, we don't know that Fields had anything to do with what happened here tonight. I can't start naming names with nothing to go on except an upset fireman who did not like being questioned." Perry glanced at her. "Let's go back to bed. I'll get us some fresh pillows."

"Perry," Della called out.

He turned back to her. "Yes, Della."

"Why did you go to such great lengths to protect me?" She waved her hand at the made-up couch. "Don't you think they have figured it out by now? They are our friends after all. Arthur means well."

"Huh … Tragg has a crush on you. You saw what he did when we went to that club to spend the evening together dancing. I got one dance with you."

Della smiled. "He did that on purpose because you evaded his questions. Perry, I'm a big girl. I am here because I want to be with you. I don't care what others think. You don't have to protect me."

Perry was shaking his head. He walked over to Della and put his arms around her. "Well, I do care. What is between us is nobody's business but ours. They are entitled only to the part of our private lives we choose to share. I don't appreciate it when they pry."

Della kissed his chin. "All right, counselor. What do you say we go back to bed?"

"Speaking of bed. I dare say you saved my life tonight. I would not have been awakened by the sound of the beeping alarm. I am glad I talked you into staying." He kissed the top of her head.

"You protected me when he came into the bedroom. Let's just say we look out for each other."

Perry smiled and hugged her to him. "That we do but thank you anyway for saving my life. Let's go to bed."

8.2

Damn that lawyer! Damn him all to hell! He staggered into his kitchen, reached into the drawer that held the knives and pulled out the one with the sharpest point. He could not go to a doctor. The hospital would have no choice but to call the police. No, he had to do this on his own. He headed for the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. In there, he spotted what he was looking for, a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He grabbed some bandages and shut the medicine cabinet door. He never thought he would ever be forced to operate on himself but that damn shyster had made it necessary.

How could he possibly know that he had entered his apartment? He had planned this. He had gone to the trouble of romancing Mason's housekeeper. He was confident at the time that she would not be any trouble. It had only taken three dates and he had the code to Mason's apartment alarm and a set of keys.

He had hoped that it would not be necessary to use them but his drive-by shooting did not bring the desired results. Mason's reflexes had been unbelievably quick. How could such a huge man move so fast?

Upon arriving back in the kitchen, he set down his medical supplies on the table. The intruder removed his shirt. The bullet from the thirty-eight had lodged in the upper arm of his shooting hand. Using cotton balls, the intruder cleaned the wound, as he attempted to stem the flow of the bleeding.

He inserted the tip of the knife into the bullet hole in his arm. Despite the pain he dug around in the

hole until he was able to extract the bullet from his arm. He poured alcohol into the gaping hole and finally bandaged his arm.

He sat at the table wondering how he was going to stop that damn lawyer from finding out the truth. He had become not just a problem but a serious problem. The intruder knew that it would be harder to catch Mason off guard now... not that he had caught him off guard this time. He had to find a way or a lucrative business would come to a grinding halt. If he could find a way to stop Mason, Palmer's next lawyer would probably cop a plea. Mason was a dead man. He just did not know it yet.

8.3

"Alright Andy, what's your problem?" Tragg asked.

Andy continued to drive his car to the police station. " I don't have a problem."

"Then why the attitude?"

"Attitude? What attitude?"

Tragg snorted. "You have not said two words since we left Mason's apartment."

Andy pondered what to say to Tragg. After all he was his superior officer. "It is just that I think you went too far in Mason's apartment."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, your remark to Della, for one thing, about the sleepover." Andy glanced at Lieutenant Tragg before returning his eyes to the road.

"She should not be spending the night in his apartment," Tragg complained.

"That is really none of your concern, Lieutenant."

"Maybe not but she can do better than Perry."

"I thought you considered Perry a friend."

"I do consider Perry a friend. I just don't think that he's the right one for Della."

"Isn't that Della's decision or have you got someone better in mind? Maybe a Los Angeles police lieutenant?" Andy knew he was now skating on thin ice with that remark.

"Don't be ridiculous. I am just looking out for her."

"In case you haven't noticed, she's pretty capable of doing that herself. Did it ever occur to you that there might be something more between Perry and Della than just an employer and employee relationship?"

"Of course it has occurred to me. In fact, I know there is. I have never understood why they go through the charade of trying to hide it. In as much as I like Perry, he lives on the edge. He endangers himself and by extension, Della. He has no business doing that."

"Lieutenant, that is up to Della and Perry. Can you really blame them for concealing their relationship? The gossip columns are always speculating about them. Both of them are intensely private. I'm sorry but I think you should respect that."

Tragg became silent. He would never admit to himself, let alone Andy, that he was right so he dropped the subject. "Tomorrow, I want you to check on his housekeeper. Find out if she gave her keys to anyone. I want to know who she's been seeing and who she's been with. If neither Perry nor Della gave their keys to anyone, it leads right back to the housekeeper. Whoever tried to kill Mason tonight will undoubtedly try again. We need to find him before he gets another chance. I want to know if there are fingerprints other than Mason's on the door and the alarm keypad. Check the registration of the gun and be sure you check it for fingerprints. Check the bullets in those pillows for any we might have on file and get me a blood type from the **the** blood on Mason's carpet. Perry's life may depend on what we find."

Andy smiled to himself. He wondered who Tragg was trying to protect, Perry or Della.


	9. Chapter 9

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 09

9.1

The alarm on the nightstand beside Perry sounded. Della reached over Perry and shut it off. She quietly slipped out of bed so as not to disturb him. It was more important that he get whatever extra sleep possible. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Reaching into the shower, Della turned on the water. She adjusted the temperature and allowed the water to run to be sure that it was good and warm. She stepped into the stall. The warm water felt soothing against her soft skin. Della turned around to face the spray, allowing it to flow into her face. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep. She hoped Perry remained asleep until she was prepared to wake him. Both of them had gone without sleep on cases before but Della was always mindful that it was more important for his legal mind to get the extra few minutes. She did not have to make life and death decisions for his clients.

She shut the water off, stepped out and grabbed the towel. Della dried her hair, put on makeup and got dressed. Not bad, she thought. She had completed the process in less than an hour. The tile of Perry's bathroom floor was cold against her bare feet as she tiptoed to the door leading into the bedroom. She quietly pushed the door open just enough to peak in at Perry. Della was surprised to see the bed was empty. As she pushed the door open a little further, she looked to see where he was. He was nowhere to be seen. This time she pushed the door wide open. Della shook her head. Just where was he? Suddenly, Perry came from around the other side of the door. He grabbed her and pinned her against the wall on the other side and kissed her.

Della started laughing. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? After what happened last night, you scared me to death."

The lawyer smiled at her. "Did you think you could slip out of bed without me knowing it? You are mistaken, Miss Street."

"You needed the rest, Perry. You should have stayed in bed."

"I did not sleep much after Tragg and Andy left. I was awake when the alarm went off."

"Why don't you jump in the shower and I'll fix us some breakfast," Della suggested.

"I was going to take you to breakfast so neither of us had to cook."

"We are not going to have time to eat out this morning. You have to be in court for the arraignment."

"Alright, Della. You run the office."

"Don't you forget it. Now take a shower. We better skip breakfast and have a long lunch." Perry bent down and kissed her. He watched her leave the bedroom and then headed into the bathroom.

9.2

"Just what do you think you are doing here, Brad?"

"I have a really big contract coming up. The owner wants to bring down the entire factory."

"What factory are you talking about?"

"Morgan's paint factory," Stout replied.

"You must be kidding! Do you have any idea how big that place is?"

Stout was indignant. "Of course I know how big the place is. That is why we are going to be paid more than five million dollars for this job." Brad Stout watched for his reaction. He stood there with a big wide grin.

"Five million dollars! Is this for real? Do the rest of the guys know about this?"

"No, you are the first one to know besides me. I worked out the deal with the owner just last night. He said five million dollars but I told him that we would have to have more because everybody's going to get one million apiece for this job. It will be a high-risk fire and I am sure there will be more than just the five of you on the job."

"When does he want the job done?"

"That is going to depend."

"On what?"

"There is a problem. He is worried about Mason. He is doing a lot of nosing around. He also has a private detective doing the same. And with Palmer going on trial shortly, he is worried that a job this big will bring on a lot of attention, not only from Mason but the police," Stout told him.

"Of course it is going to attract attention. Any fire that we are involved in right now is going to draw Mason's attention. Quite frankly, Mason is more of a problem that the police. He is checking into the background of every fireman at that fire five years ago."

Stout nodded. "I know. He was over at the Claymore apartments with his secretary. They were nosing around. Someone shoved him over the railing. If he had fallen, he would have fallen down a couple of stories. I had to help him back to safety."

"Why the hell would you do that? Why didn't you just let him fall?"

"I couldn't. His secretary came pounding on my door. I could not very well say no, now could I?" Stout explained. "Would you have refused to help him under those circumstances?"

"No, I guess not. So when do you think we will do this job?"

"We have to talk to Denny. You will have to be extra careful on this one. It will be scrutinized so you are going to have to make sure it doesn't look like arson," Stout answered.

"We have done alright so far, haven't we?"

"No complaints from me," Stout said.

"Alright then. I will talk to the rest of the guys. We'll come up with a date and a plan. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I can't stress enough that something needs to be done about Mason. You tell Denny, he damn well better come up with some kind of plan to stop that nosy lawyer and his private eye from interfering."

"I will tell him but short of killing him I don't know what else we can do."

"Then kill him, unless you would rather give up a million dollars," Stout said.

9.3

Paul Drake entered Perry Mason's office. He looked at Gertie and said, "Is Mr. Mason in yet?"

"No but Miss Street is," Gertie answered.

Paul nodded and went through the door to the outer office where Della's desk was. She looked at him and smiled. "Hi, Paul."

"Hi, Beautiful, where's the boss?"

"He's in court. Seth Palmer was being arraigned this morning," Della responded.

"Tell him I want to see him, would you please?"

"Of course. I know he wants to see you as well. He has a couple things to add to your plate."

"That figures. Well, I'll be going. Talk to you later, Beautiful." He flashed her a smile and turned to go.

"Wait, Paul. There is something you should know."

Paul turned back to Della. "What's that … the check machine with the automatic signature broke down and Perry's right hand is in a cast so he can't sign my check?"

Della chuckled. "No. Your check is already made out and signed." She reached in one of the very neatly stacked piles on her desk, pulled out a check and handed it to the PI.

Paul grinned. "That is what I like ... efficiency. Now what did you want to tell me?"

"Someone shot at Perry and me in the parking garage at his apartment last night."

Paul's jovial expression changed to that of concern. "Is Perry alright?"

Della nodded. " He was able to knock us both to the ground. That is not all. Someone came into his apartment and shot bullets into the pillows Perry arranged on the bed when we realized someone was in the apartment."

"He needs to be more careful about putting the alarm on before going to bed."

"He did put the alarm on, Paul. Someone was able to obtain the code."

"They would also have to have keys to the building and his apartment", Paul said.

Tragg and Andy were going to look into it." Della told him.

"I doubt that they will find any prints and someone who works there must have supplied the key and the code to the alarm. Thank God you both are alright."

"Perry did get off a shot. He hit the intruder, probably in the shoulder. He dropped the gun and the flashlight he was carrying. "

"Whoever it was will have been smart enough to use a gun that cannot be traced."

"That is what Perry figured too."

"I am going to have a couple men keep an eye on both of you until this case is solved."

The door to the private entrance to Perry's office slammed.

"Hang on Paul, that is Perry, now." Della opened the door to the attorney's private office. She went in and shut the door. Mason was taking off his overcoat.

He looked up when Della entered and smiled. "Della, tell Paul I want to see him right away."

"He's in the outer office right now, Perry."

"Send him in," Perry requested.

Della left his office and returned with the tall, handsome private eye. "Hi, Perry. Della tells me the two of you had quite a night last night."

"You could say that. If she filled you in then you know someone had keys to the building, my apartment and … the code to the alarm. The only way that would be possible would be an employee of the apartment complex."

"In another words start checking them," Paul said.

"Start with my housekeeper. She only started cleaning my apartment a couple months ago. Her name is Nora Cirksena. Find out if she has a boyfriend."

"Perry, I'm going to have a couple of my men keep an eye on you and Della. You won't even know they are there. That is three times that they have gone after you."

"Four times," Della said. "Don't forget the attempt at the Claymore Apartment building."

"That's what bothers me ," Paul said. "The law of averages says one of these times they are going to succeed. I would feel better if someone was watching your back."

Perry did not like the idea of a shadow but he was worried for Della's safety. "Alright, Paul but don't take any man off what they are already doing."

"I will assign more. Don't worry about it. Just be careful and start carrying that gun you have a permit for," Paul told him.

"What about the arraignment?" Della asked.

"The hearing is set for a week from this Friday," Perry said.

Paul was surprised. "That doesn't give us much time? Why the hurry? Did Burger demand an immediate hearing?"

"No, in fact, he wanted more time. The judge would not give it to him. He told Hamilton the defendant was entitled to a speedy trial. I told the judge we would be willing to take a later date and he would have no part of it."

"So he sends the defendant to a speedy trial and doesn't give his lawyer time to prepare a defense. Now that makes sense," Paul said sarcastically. Something occurred to Drake. "Why would Burger object to an early court date? I would have thought he would have been overjoyed about how little time you would have to prepare."

"Maybe he is not as comfortable about a conviction as he puts on," Della offered.

"Right now he has him dead to right." Drake took a cigarette out of his pocket. After lighting it with the lighter on Perry's desk, he took a puff and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"I am not so sure about that, Paul. I think Hamilton is as uneasy about these fires as we are. I am sure Tragg has told him by now how many times someone has either tried to knock me down two flights of stairs, run me down with a fire truck or fill me full of holes. Hamilton is a smart man. He can't be feeling good that Palmer is the murderer if someone is trying to stop us from finding out what is going on."

"Perry, there could be a lot of reasons for someone trying to kill you, the least of which could be related to another case," Paul tried to point out.

Della looked at him in disbelief. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Paul shrugged and blew more smoke into the air. "No, I guess not but it is a possibility."

Perry sat thoughtfully for a moment and then said, "Anything new on Stout, Maxwell or those fire devils?"

Paul chuckled. "That fits them. The only thing new is on Monte Skinner. He either knows how to stretch a dollar better than anyone else or he is living way beyond his means."

"That was one of the things Perry wanted to talk to you about," Della said.

Perry lowered his brows. "That is the impression we got as well. What have you found out?"

"It's not so much what I have found out as it is what I can't find," Drake mused.

"Such as?" Mason encouraged him to elaborate.

"I can't find any source of income besides his fireman's pay."

"Keep checking, Paul. I want to be sure before I question him in court. His wife claims he got money when her father died."

"Okay, Perry. I'll check that out." Drake stood up and headed for the door. He turned just before he left. "You two be careful."

Perry and Della smiled at his display of concern.

9.5

Several days had gone by with nothing new turning up. Della knew that Perry was worried. They knew these firemen were involved in a scam to defraud the insurance companies. They were also sure that one of them or all of them was responsible for Ted Jacoby's murder. Yet they had not come up with anything concrete to prove it. They were going to court in a few days and Hamilton Burger was giddy at the thought that he would finally beat his adversary and friend in the courtroom. Paul of course was still on the job, but so far he had run into nothing but dead ends.

Della poured another cup of coffee, opened the door to Perry's office. She glanced over at him sitting at his desk and smiled. This was not a man to give up even when things seemed hopeless. He was going over the reports Paul and his men had given him.

"Perry, why don't you take a break. You have not been sleeping much. Your mind can't possibly be clear under the circumstances." She set the coffee down on the desk in front of him.

"The answer is here somewhere. I know one of these firemen killed Jacoby. I wish the hell I could prove it."

"You only have to provide reasonable doubt. It is the police's job to determine who killed Jacoby," Della reminded him.

"I know that but one or more of these men have tried to kill me. I could accept that but they have endangered you in the process. That I cannot accept. I want them, Della."

"Alright but right now I want you to take a break."

"Not right now. I have to find a link between these men and Jacoby's murder." Mason rubbed his eyes.

Della knew there was only one way to get him to take a break. She pushed the lawyer's chair from the desk and sat down in his lap.

Perry grinned. "I thought you said this was off limits in the office."

"It is but I could not think of any other way to get you to relax for a few minutes."

Perry tried to kiss Della but she pulled back. "That is off limits as well," she said with a smile.

"Just how long is this relaxing supposed to last?"

"Long enough for you to realize you need a break," she answered.

"Alright, do I have any appointments?"

"Not until this afternoon."

"Then let's take a break. Do you feel like some lunch?"

"That is more like it. I'll get my purse," she said as she stood up. She looked over her shoulder on the way to the door. "Where are we going?"

"There is a nice little café across the street from a firehouse," Perry said, reaching for the paperwork Della had distracted him from.

Della stopped moving when she heard his suggestion. "That is not exactly what I had in mind."

"You could always come back and sit in my lap," he said grinning, displaying deep dimples on both sides of his cheeks.

Della smiled and shook her head. "Not during office hours, Mr. Mason."

"Then I suggest you pick up those subpoenas and bring them with us." Mason got up and walked to the door. "After you, Miss Street."

9.6

The doorbell rang in the apartment of Nora Cirksena. Brad Stout stood on the other side when she opened the door. "I can't believe you have the nerve to show up here after what you did last night."

When she attempted to shut the door, Stout pushed his way into her apartment, shut and locked the door.

"Just what am I supposed to have done last night?"

"You know damn well what you did. I was called in by the manager of Mason's apartment building. He asked me to show him the key to Mason's apartment."

"Well, did you show him the key?"

"Just how could I do that when I gave the keys to you? Mason was shot at last night outside his apartment."

"So what does that have to do with me?"

She shot him a disgusted look. "Do not treat me like I am some kind of an idiot. You shot at him and when you missed him, you used the keys and door code to get into his apartment. Only Mason outsmarted you. He set the pillows up and you shot **up** them instead of Mason."

"So what if I did?"

"I can't believe it! You admit it! You told me that you were an old friend of Mason's and you wanted to surprise him. I never dreamed you wanted to kill him. Give me back the keys and then get out of here!" she shouted.

"I can't do that, Nora. You know too much. I can't take the chance of you going to the police." He walked slowly toward her.

It was then she noticed he was wearing gloves. Terror began to rise as she backed away from him. "Stay away from me!" Stout ignored her and continued coming toward her. She glanced at the door. Stout was a big man. There wasn't much chance she could get past him. The bedroom was her only chance. If she could reach it, she could lock the door and use the phone on the nightstand to call the police. Yes, she decided, that was her only chance. She watched as Stout pulled a knife out of his jacket. She made a dash for the bedroom door but Stout was quicker. He grabbed her as she screamed.

9.7

Paul Drake ambled down the hall of the apartment building that Nora Cirksena lived in. He read the numbers as he progressed. He was surprised the police had not been to see her yet. Paul had called his buddy at police headquarters after he had left Perry's office. Sgt. Chris Madison told Paul that Andy Anderson had checked the ballistics report several days ago and that nothing in the police records matched the bullets that had been shot at Perry. Nor had there been any fingerprints on Perry's door handle other than his own and one other set of prints. They had determined the other set of prints belonged to Della Street. Paul was not surprised that at that hour no one saw or heard the intruder enter or leave Perry's apartment. Chris told him that they had not been able to find Nora Cirksena. She had not shown up at work and she had moved out of her last apartment with no forwarding address. Paul had been fortunate to be with the manager of Perry's apartment building when a phone call came in from him. Chris said the police had located her and were on their way. Chris gave Paul the address. Paul figured he had about a half hour head start on them.

Drake stopped at apartment 310. Just as he was about to knock on the door, a woman screamed. Drake put his shoulder to the door and slammed into it. The door gave way and opened. The apartment appeared to be empty but he knew better. He pulled out his gun and slowly moved through the apartment. "Miss Cirksena?" He received no answer. The apartment had an open concept. He could see the dining room, kitchen and living room from the moment he entered. He walked quietly over to the closed door which he assumed was the bedroom. Paul pushed the door open with the barrel of his gun. Lying on the floor a few feet into the room was a woman … in a pool of blood. Paul rushed to her and bent down. That was when his world turned black as he was hit on the back of the head.


	10. Chapter 10

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 10

10.1

The door to the apartment was slightly ajar. Lt. Tragg pulled out his service revolver and motioned for Lt. Andy Anderson to move to the other side of the door. Andy did as Tragg instructed as he pulled his own gun out of the holster. Tragg pushed the door open with the barrel of his gun. He pointed the gun to the left. Andy followed the direction of Tragg's gun and began searching the apartment.

Tragg moved to his right. He spotted the open bedroom door. After catching Andy's attention, the two officers cautiously headed for the door. Tragg pushed the door open as Andy covered him. Kneeling over a woman lying in a pool of blood was Paul Drake. He had a knife in one hand and he was rubbing the back of his head with the other.

Tragg and Anderson holstered their weapons. "Put the knife down, Drake," Tragg ordered.

"Lieutenant, I'm glad you are here."

"I'll bet you are," Tragg responded.

Paul looked down at the knife in his hand and then back at Tragg. "You don't think I killed her?"

"You tell me, Paul," Tragg said.

"Come on, Lieutenant, you know Paul didn't do this," Andy protested.

"I still have to investigate. You of all people know that, Andy. Now tell me what happened," Tragg said, directing his attention back to Paul.

"The woman's name is Nora Cirksena. She was Perry's housekeeper. We believe she gave her keys and the code to the alarm in Perry's apartment to the intruder that tried to kill Perry. I came here to talk to her."

"Did you argue with her?" Tragg asked.

"What? No, of course not. You really don't think I did this! I have no motive," Paul remarked.

"Your two closest friends are shot at and then an attempt on Mason's life and all because this woman gave the code and keys to his apartment to the guy that did it."

"You have to be kidding!" Paul exclaimed. "This conversation is at an end. I want to talk to my lawyer."

Tragg sighed. "There's the phone, call Perry."

10.2

"Perry, you have hardly touched your lunch," Della said with concern. It was unusual for him to lose his appetite.

"I was hoping to avoid going into the station to deliver these subpoenas. I did not want to deal with any more runaway fire trucks. None of the firemen have showed up in here."

"Maybe you should use the courts to deliver them. I don't particularly want you in the firehouse either." Della looked up. The firemen had just walked into the café. "Perry, take a look." She raised her chin in their direction.

Mason turned to see them settling in the corner booth. "Perfect timing. Give me the subpoenas, please." Della handed them over to him. Mason got up and headed in their direction. As he approached, Bert Fielder caught Denny Boulder's eye and pointed briefly at Mason.

Denny stood up. "Mr. Mason, I thought I told you that you were not welcome."

Mason looked around the café with the innocence of a child. "I wasn't aware that you own this café, Mr. Boulder."

Fielder snorted in disgust. "Get lost, Mason!"

"Bert, let me handle this," Denny scolded. He turned his attention back to Mason. "Please go away, Mason. We had a rough shift and we are all tired."

"Rough shift?" Mason raised an eyebrow. "There weren't any more fires. Or is that why it was a rough shift… no one ordered up a fire for hire."

Fielder stood up. "I am only going to tell you one more time, Mason. Get the hell out of here if you know what is good for you!"

"Bert, that is enough!" Denny raised his voice. When he noticed people were staring he calmed and said to Mason, "You have no right to harass us. If you keep it up, we are going to sue you."

"You would need a lawyer for that. Don't bother calling my office," Mason said with a smile. "I just dropped by to give you these." Perry pulled the subpoenas out of his suit coat where he had placed them and handed them one by one to each fireman. He looked at Monte Skinner and smiled. "You already have yours."

Bert picked his up. "What the hell is this?"

"They are called subpoenas, Mr. Fielder. Your presence is required in court."

"You son of a bitch," Fiedler shouted. "Do you think this is going to help Palmer. I will make sure my testimony hangs him."

"Perjury is a serious crime, Mr. Fielder. If you perjure yourself on the stand, I will make sure you are charged. So I would think twice about manufacturing your answers." As Mason turned to go, Fielder jumped over the table and attacked him. Mason, having seen him coming, simply stood his ground. Fielder hit Mason's body with a thud. Mason, being a much bigger man, was like hitting a brick wall for Bert Fielder. Mason grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. "That was not very smart, Fielder. You have just given me grounds to sue you for assault. But is it the first time? Did you take a shot at me last night and then enter my apartment, trying for a second time?" Using his superior strength Mason simply subdued the smaller man.

"What? I did nothing of the kind. I'll sue you if you accuse me of that," Fielder yelled.

"That was not an accusation. It was a question," Mason said.

The owner of the café hurried over to their table. "Gentlemen, that's enough! "

"He attacked me!" Fielder shouted.

A man from a nearby table stood up. "That is not true. This gentleman attacked Mr. Mason."

The owner took a closer look at Mason. "I thought you looked familiar. Mr. Mason, please release him."

"Are you going to behave yourself, Mr. Fielder?" The fireman said nothing but had stopped struggling so Mason let go.

Mitch Donaldson laughed. "I told you not to mess with him. He's way too big."

"Shut up, Mitch!" Fiedler yelled.

"If you gentlemen can't keep your voices down, you will have to leave." The owner was becoming quite upset.

Denny Boulder stepped in. "We apologize for any trouble we have caused. We just want to sit down and have some lunch. Mr Mason has concluded his business here."

"Indeed I have." He walked away from the firemen and returned to Della.

She had been waiting for him anxiously. "Perry , Paul called. He has a problem."

10.3

"I am telling you, we have to do something about that damn lawyer." Bert was clearly still upset from his altercation with Perry Mason. "We can't go into court and testify. Every one of us will have to get on the stand and lie. We certainly cannot tell the truth about what we are doing."

"Did you try to kill him last night, Bert?" Denny asked.

"No! But I know who did. He told me he was going to get rid of him."

"Who was going to get rid of him?" Mitch asked.

"Brad. He said if Palmer is forced to get a new lawyer, the new one will not be as relentless as Mason. He will plea bargain with the district attorney."

"I already told you guys, I will not be a party to murder." Marcus Shepherd looked at each of his fellow firemen individually.

Bert began laughing. When he finally quit, he addressed Marcus directly. "You damn fool, you already are."

"The hell I am," Marcus said with rising anger.

"Yes, you are," Monte Skinner broke into the conversation. "We all are, beginning with that fire five years ago. People died in that fire. That is pre-meditated murder, my friend. Everyone at this table is guilty whether he will admit it or not. Believe me I have been struggling for some time with what we have been doing. I finally came to terms with it. The knowledge of what we have been doing must remain between those of us at this table or we will all be destroyed."

"Finally, someone is making sense," Fielder piped up.

"Shut up, Fielder, and listen for a change," Boulder snarled. "Go on, Monte."

"Bert is right about one thing. Mason is a problem. The man is not stupid. I have no doubt he is checking on some money that my wife said came from her father's estate. He will find out it didn't. We need to decide what we are going to do about him."

"I have a suggestion," Bert said.

"Oh, great! A suggestion from the man who tried to beat up a guy twice his size! He handled you like you were a toothpick. You're lucky he didn't smash your face in or break your neck," Mitch said.

"This is not helping. Everyone just cool it!" Denny ordered. "Bert has a right to talk. Go ahead, Bert."

"Since we are all guilty of murder, what is one more? We eliminate Mason just like Brad said."

"And just how do you intend on doing that?" Marcus asked. "None of us could handle that man one on one… even two or three on one. We all saw how easily he handled you. He did not even break a sweat. Hell, he didn't have to make hardly any effort at all. Brad tried killing him and he failed… twice, I might add. I'll bet Mason is now carrying a gun to protect himself."

"Taking out Mason is easy if you think about it," Monte said. Everyone looked at him and waited for him to continue. "We simply do what we have been doing."

Bert grinned. "He's right. Mason should die in a fire."

Denny nodded. "The Brent Building is a big office building. That is not going to be an easy task but I believe we can manage it. We simply have to be sure Mason is in the building at the time."

"That is easy." Bert flashed an evil grin. "His secretary or whatever she is to him. I suspect it is more than someone who types his briefs. My guess is she removes his briefs." He laughed at his witty remark. "One of us makes sure she is on the floor. We tell Mason where she is and that she is trapped. You can quote me on this one, boys. He will come running to save her. When he does that, he's dead. We pick a night we are on duty. That will insure that he doesn't get out of the building alive."

"Why kill the woman if Mason is the target? Are we just going to go around killing at random?" Marcus complained. "And what about the other people in the building?"

"Who is she to us?" Denny asked. "If using her gets Mason, than I say we do it. It will put an end to the investigation into our activities and then we cool it for a while. When the heat is off, we can start up again."

"What about the other people in the building?" Mitch repeated Marcus' question.

"Mason is known for the hours he works. He and his secretary are in that building working on business long after everyone else is gone," Monte told them.

"Yeah, monkey business," Bert laughed at what he perceived was his own cleverness.

"Monte is right," Denny said. "Mason is a workaholic. We can do it at night when the building is empty. No one will suspect it is arson. The owner of that building is a very rich, upstanding citizen. Are you sure no one else would be in the building, Monte?"

"Just the Drake Detective Agency. They are open twenty-four hours a day. That's the PI that works for Mason."

"Good, we can take him out at the same time," Bert said, almost giddy. "What about tonight?"

"We are not on duty tonight, you moron," Marcus growled.

"We will plan it for the first night we are back. That will give us time to make sure it is done right." Boulder nodded at all of them. They had breakfast feeling more confident than ever before. Soon Mason would be out of their hair.

10.4

Perry and Della walked into the apartment of Nora Cirksena. Paul was sitting on the couch. He stood up as they entered. "What is the problem, Tragg?" Perry asked.

"A dead body. Paul has discovered another one."

"Why is he being held?" Mason asked the detective.

"He was found kneeling over the body with the murder weapon in hand. And he refuses to talk to us."

"That is not true, Tragg. I was more than willing to talk to you until you started accusing me of the murder."

"Tell him what happened, Paul." Mason nodded at his PI.

"I heard a woman scream when I got here to talk to Nora Cirksena. I entered and called out for her but she did not answer so I took a look around. I saw the door over there." He pointed at the bedroom door and headed for it. "As soon as I went in I saw Nora Cirksena lying in a pool of blood. I knew there was not much of a chance that she was alive but I had to check. So I knelt down beside her and that is when I was clobbered from behind. The lights went out and when I woke up that knife was in my hand."

"That's it," Tragg said.

"Yes, Lieutenant. That's it and it happens to be the truth."

Mason went over to Paul Drake and checked the back of his head. "You don't have to bother, Mason. I already checked. He has a rather large bump on his head and the scalp is broken and was bleeding."

"I don't understand what the problem is here, Tragg. That cut on his head backs up his story that he was hit with something," Perry pointed out.

"Well, until now I didn't know that. Although I suspected it was something like that."

Paul looked at Tragg in disbelief. "If you thought it went down that way then why did you accuse me of killing her?"

"I didn't, Paul. I only asked you if you argued with her. You said no and said you had no motive. I simply pointed out that you did have a motive."

"What motive?" Mason inquired.

"The fact that she is the one that gave your attacker the keys and code to your apartment where he almost killed you."

Perry shook his head. "That's pretty thin. I would tear that apart in court. Paul didn't even know the woman and I have been threatened before. When was the last time he went out and killed someone for that?"

"Alright, alright. You win. Perry, I need you to identify the woman." Tragg went into the bedroom as Perry followed him.

Perry walked over to the body and knelt down. "Yes, that is Nora Cirksena."

"Do you have any idea who might have killed her?" Tragg asked.

"Find out who she was seeing. I have a theory that man is the one who tried to kill me last night." Perry left out that he was sure it would tie into the Palmer case.

"She never mentioned anyone to you when cleaning your apartment?"

"I never talked to her. She usually arrived as I was leaving for the office. I never said more than hello to her."

"There is nothing you can tell me?" Tragg pushed him for information.

"Not really. Sorry Lieutenant… except… "

"Except what?"

"Except my apartment is going to get awfully dirty." Mason smiled.

Tragg shot him a disgusted look. "Get out of here, Mason and take Drake with you."

"Then you don't consider him a suspect?" Mason asked.

"Never did. I just get sick of you two discovering bodies every time I turn around."

Perry smiled at him one more time. "Goodbye, Lieutenant." Perry left the room and went back into the living room. He walked over to Lt. Anderson. "Andy, did the neighbors see anyone enter or exit this apartment?"

"The woman in the room across the hall saw Paul enter. She said she heard a woman scream. Paul was on the outside when she did."

"Why, that dirty…" Paul began but Perry cut him off.

"Easy, Paul. Let's get out of here."

Drake followed Perry and Della out of the apartment. When they were a good distance away, Perry asked, "Were you able to find out anything at all?"

"No. Like I said, the woman screamed and I went in. She was dead. Whoever killed her clobbered me and took off."

"You did not get a glimpse of him?" Della asked.

"He clobbered me and I saw stars. When I woke up, he was long gone."

"We have to find him. Whoever it was is mixed up in this fire-for-hire business. Anything new on Brad Stout?" Perry asked his detective.

"Nothing yet. Do you think it was him?" Paul asked.

"Could be," Mason replied.

"Or one of the fire starters," Della added. "We should be able to find out which one of them tried to kill you, Perry. One of them would still have a pretty sore shoulder."

"I intend to check that out in court," Perry told her. "Are you alright to drive, Paul?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Then we'll see you at dinner; say seven o'clock at Clay's?"

"Alright, Perry. Be careful." Paul waved at the man in the car that was following Perry and Della. He got in his car. "Where are you going?"

"To push more buttons," Mason said. "Let's go, Della." Paul pulled away from the curb and drove away. Mason opened the car door and Della got in. He walked around the car and got in behind the wheel.

"Where are we going?" Della said.

"We are going to pay a visit on Mr. Brad Stout. I have a feeling he is the one who took those shots at us and then came back when he missed. It might take Paul awhile to connect him with Nora Cirksena. Maybe we can do it a little faster. I want to find out if he has a clipped wing."

"And if he has?"

"Then I am going to clip the other one."


	11. Chapter 11

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 11

11.1

Still angry at Lt. Tragg for holding him in Nora Cirksena's apartment when he did not even suspect him of her murder, Paul Drake drove toward the Brent Building, the home of his detective agency. One thing about being the legman for an attorney, he could always call Perry to pull him out of a jam. Usually it took nothing more than Perry showing up at the scene. The police never had anything on Paul but they liked to throw their weight around on occasion. Normally Paul was very cooperative in these situations but Tragg really ticked him off.

Paul had been out cold just before Tragg entered that apartment. There was no doubt in Paul's mind that he had to have had the appearance of grogginess. His head was still spinning when Tragg walked in. Paul liked the lieutenant but sometimes, out of frustration, Tragg would try to push him around. Paul did not like being pushed around. He did not understand why the lieutenant treated him like a suspect. Maybe he was a bit sensitive since Tragg and Burger had charged him with murder once before. Perry had been able to find the real killer and he was released with his private detective license in tack. He did not want to go through that again. Now if it looked at all like they were looking at him as a suspect, Paul simply clammed up and called Perry. It did not normally go that far but today it did and he was sore about it.

Drake pulled his sports car into his parking spot in the Brent Building garage. His head hurt and he was upset with himself for not getting to Nora Cirksena's apartment before the killer did. If he had not stopped to check on something else, he might have been there to deal with the killer. Even if the killer had backed off when he discovered Paul was there, he would have at least been able to talk to her and possibly found out who entered Perry's apartment and tried to kill him. It was one thing to go after Perry. He could take care of himself but it infuriated him when he thought of something happening to Della.

There was a time Paul had considered asking Della out but he quickly found out that her heart belonged to Perry. It was evident in the fact that she spent her days with him and worked every night with him until eleven or twelve. No secretary would do that for a boss unless the boss was more than a boss to her. Still, Paul felt protective where Della was concerned. She and Perry were his closest friends and he spent more time with them than anyone else… except for when he could tell three was a crowd, which seemed to be happening more lately. Drake smiled. Perry was one lucky son of a gun. He just didn't understand why the two of them did not tie the knot. It was obvious to him that they loved each other. _Hang it, _he thought. _It is none of my business._

Whoever was threatening his friends had no idea how far he would go to protect them. He rode the elevator to his floor and walked down the hall. He looked up at the door… Drake Detective Agency. It was time it lived up to its name. He was going to help Perry nail these firemen.

The PI was so lost in thought that he did not see the man that had just left the utility room behind him.

11.2

Perry and Della rode the elevator to the third floor. Heading toward Brad Stout's apartment, Perry felt Della tense. He stopped. "Is there something wrong?"

"It is just that I remember the last time we were here. It was not a pleasant experience. If anything had happened to you, I don't know what I would have done." She looked up into his blue eyes.

Perry smiled. "I guess you would have had to go back to school and study for your law degree."

Della's temper rose up a notch. "That is not amusing, Perry. You could have been killed. And if I had wanted a law degree, I would have gone and gotten one."

He smiled again and put his arm around her. "And I have no doubt you would have finished at the top of your class. I was just trying to lighten up the situation. I don't like seeing you tense and upset." He lowered his hand and rubbed her back.

Perry's touch had an immediate calming effect. She smiled up at him. "I am sorry, Perry. I guess this case is getting to me a bit. I don't like you being in constant danger."

"I'm not exactly thrilled about it either," he replied. "We are just going to have to be extra careful until this case is solved."

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

"What?"

"Visiting Brad Stout?" Della asked.

"I want to know if he is the one that entered our apartment and tried to kill me."

Della smiled. "Our apartment?"

"What's mine is yours. You should know that by now," he whispered in her ear.

"In that case, I would like to start driving the Cadillac. It is nicer than my car," she whispered to him.

"If you want a new car… all you have to do is say so," he whispered right back.

"No, thanks. I would rather ride in the Cadillac with you," she continued to whisper, brushing her lips against his ear.

"If you keep that up, we are not going to get any work done this afternoon." Perry took her elbow and led her toward Brad Stout's apartment. When they arrived, Perry knocked on the door. The door apparently was not locked as the forces of his knuckles pushed it open. He looked at Della.

"Please tell me you are not going in there," Della pleaded.

He grinned. "Okay, I am not going in there… we are."

"But Perry, isn't that breaking and entering?"

"I didn't break in. The door was open. Stout may be in need of help." Using his knuckles, Perry pushed the door open further. "Mr. Stout!" he called out, looking through the opening. "Mr. Stout!" He received no answer. He took Della's hand and pulled her into the apartment. Perry pulled out his handkerchief and closed the door. He then locked it.

"What are you doing?" Della inquired.

"You don't want to be caught snooping in here, do you?"

"I don't want to be snooping in here, let alone get caught." Della stayed close to Perry as he moved around the room. "Who goes away and leaves their door open?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone has a key," he surmised. Perry walked over to the desk. He glanced over the papers on the surface. "Della, take a look at this," he said as he reached out and pulled her to him.

"What is it?"

"The floor plan for the Morgan Paint Company."

"Now why would he have that?" she asked.

"He would need to give the layout to the fireman if they intended to burn it down," he answered.

"Do you think…" She stopped when they heard the lock on the door turning. Perry grabbed her hand and the two of them moved swiftly to the terrace off the living room. He unlocked the door and the couple entered the terrace. Perry shut the door and pulled Della out of view of the window.

Mason peaked through the end of the curtains. He watched the fireman. He seemed to be searching for something.

"Who is it?" Della asked. Perry put his finger to his lips to silence Della. She said nothing more.

He continued watching the fireman while he went from one end of the living room to the other. He was careful to return everything the way it had been found. After ten minutes, the fireman left the apartment with a manila envelope in his possession. "It's clear, Della. Let's go."

"Who was it?"

"Monte Skinner. He took an envelope with him. What do you suppose was in it?" Perry answered and asked.

"Where did he get a key to this apartment?" Della wondered. "Makes you wonder if he has a habit of entering apartments, doesn't it?"

Perry frowned as he led Della back into the living room. "No, Della, he is not the one who shot at the bed in our apartment."

"How do you know?" Della asked.

"For one thing, he is too short. The level of the gun was higher. It would have been unnatural for him to hold the gun that high. No, whoever shot into our bedroom was bigger than Monte Skinner. And secondly he was lifting things too easily. There wasn't any restricted movement in his shoulder." Perry walked back over to the desk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pencil with an eraser. He used the eraser to flip through the floor plan of the paint company. One area had been circled with a pencil.

"Do you suppose that is where they are going to start the fire?" Della asked.

"I don't know but I think we better have Paul check it out," he answered. The door lock was turning again. "Come on, Della." He took her hand and the two of them headed back out on the terrace. Perry looked through the edge of the curtains. Bert Fielder now appeared to be searching the apartment.

Della tapped Perry's shoulder. Before she could say anything, he raised his finger to his lips again. Mason watched Fielder. He also was searching from one end of the place to the other. Twenty minutes later, he swore and left the apartment. "This place sure is getting a lot of traffic tonight," Della said.

"What could those two have been looking for?" Perry asked Della, knowing she had no more answers than he did. He shook his head. "We better get out of here before the next one shows up." He reached for the terrace door when the front door of the apartment opened yet again. Perry pushed Della back as he watched inside. This time it was Brad Stout. He dropped his briefcase on the desk and headed into the hallway. Perry opened the terrace door and listened. He could hear the shower running somewhere down that hall. Stout reappeared in the living room. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder. He walked to the phone and dialed. "Denny, it's Brad. It's missing!" He listened for a moment and said, "I don't know, my door was locked when I got here. It did not show any signs of tampering." He listened again for a minute and said, "If the rest of the guys find out, you and I are going to have a big problem. Oh, and I got the floor plan. It is up to you when you want to do the job. I have to go. I am going to take a shower. I have to meet another potential client. I will let you know." He hung up the phone. He pulled the towel off his shoulder. Perry saw the bandage. Apparently it was still draining a bit of blood. Perry guessed Stout must have removed the bullet himself.

As soon as Stout disappeared down the hall, Perry grabbed Della's hand, opened the terrace door using the handkerchief and walked quickly to the front door. He unlocked the dead bolt and shut the door quietly as soon as he and Della were on the other side. "Let's get out of here," he said, still holding Della's hand. Instead of heading down the hall to the elevator, Perry led her to the stairs. He forced Della to walk as quickly as her high-heeled shoes would allow.

Once they reached his car, Mason opened the passenger door. Della slid into the seat. He hurried around the Cadillac and got behind the wheel. Perry sped down the street. He slowed down after they got a block away from the apartment building.

Della's heart was beating fast. She tried to slow her breathing. "What was that all about?"

"Brad Stout is the one that entered our apartment and shot at me. He is probably also the one that took pot shots at us in the parking garage."

"How do you know?"

"When he came back into the living room, he had a towel on his shoulder. He removed it after the phone call. He has a bandage right where I aimed that gun. It was still bleeding a bit," Perry told her.

"Don't you think you better call Lt. Tragg?" she asked.

"And tell him what? That I discovered he had a bullet hole in him? What do I tell him when he asked how I know that?"

"I see your dilemma. What are you going to do, Perry?"

"We are going to meet Paul for dinner. We need to find out about that paint company and I want to know what Boulder and Stout are up to."

"Maybe they are running a scam behind the backs of the other firemen," she suggested.

"Maybe, but it looks like Skinner found whatever they were trying to keep from them."

"Are you hungry?" Perry asked her.

"Starving! All that cloak and dagger makes me hungry enough to eat two meals."

"Alright, then I will buy you two dinners," he promised.

"One will do or my waistline is going to expand."

"That would not make any difference to me," Perry said, smiling at her. "All the more to love."

"Well it does to me! You will have to be satisfied loving what there is."

"I already do," Perry said, running a finger down her jawline.

11.3

Mason pulled his Cadillac to a stop in front of Clay's. He noticed Paul's red sports car parked a short distance away. He got out of the car and went around to the passenger side . Opening the door, he took Della's hand and assisted her in exiting the automobile. Perry cupped her elbow and escorted her into the restaurant.

"Good evening, Mr. Mason. It is nice to see you and Miss Street again. Mr. Drake is already here. If you will follow me, I will show you to his table." Perry and Della followed Al to the back of the restaurant to a secluded booth. As they approached Paul stood up.

"Evening, Paul," Perry greeted his friend.

"Hi, Perry. Hello, Beautiful," Paul responded. "I thought you might like some privacy so I asked Al to find us a booth away from the rest of them."

"This is fine, Paul," Della told him.

The three friends sat down. A waitress appeared and took their orders. "Would you like something to drink?"

"A bottle of your best wine," Perry said with a smile. The waitress returned his smile and disappeared.

Perry spent the next few minutes bringing Paul up to date as to what transpired at Brad Stout's apartment.

"You took a big chance, Perry. If he tried to kill you once, he would not have hesitated killing both of you had he discovered you there." Paul knew his friend took a lot of chances but he had to scold him anyway.

"You are missing the point. Monte Skinner took something out of that apartment. I want to know what it was. That conversation that Stout had with Boulder indicated that they may have been running some kind of scheme the other firemen did not know about." Perry lit up a cigarette, handed it to Drake and then lit up one for himself. "I want to know what it is."

"Well, it looks like Skinner and Fielder know about it. Skinner removed something and Fielder wasn't there looking for nothing." Drake puffed on his cigarette. The waitress returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. She poured and placed a glass in front of each one of them.

"Just what could it be?" Della wondered.

"So, I take it you want me to find out," Paul said.

"Yes, Paul. I have a hunch it is important."

"Tell Paul the rest of it, Perry," Della said.

"The rest of what?" Drake looked at Della and then at Perry.

"When Stout came out of the bathroom. He was bare chested."

"Naturally, who showers with their clothes on?" Drake said with a grin. Perry looked Paul up and down. His jacket was wrinkled… probably from laying on the floor in Nora Cirksena's apartment. When Paul realized what Perry was doing it he protested. "Just a minute. I did not shower in my clothes. I was rolling around on the floor for a client." Perry and Della laughed at his expense.

"As I was saying, he entered the living room bare chested but he had a towel thrown over his shoulder. He removed it just before leaving the room. He had a …"

"Bullet hole in his shoulder," Paul finished.

"How'd you know that?" Della inquired.

"I am a detective … besides I did some checking this afternoon while you two were out playing with fire." He grinned at the pun. "I followed Stout. He went to a steam room in that gym across from the Wells Fargo bank. It just so happens I have a membership there. I went in to the same room he was in."

"That was risky, Paul," Della pointed out. "Suppose he had recognized you?"

"Well, he didn't. Anyway his shoulder was bandaged. He had a little red spot on the bandage about the size of a bullet hole. So we can be sure that he was the one that entered your apartment and shot at you."

"And killed Nora Cirksena," Perry added.

"Perry, can't you contact Lt. Tragg now?" Della asked.

"Not unless we can tie Stout to Nora Cirksena," Perry answered, "and we can't… at least not yet." He looked back at Drake. "Anything on the bank accounts of those firemen?"

"They all have large sums of money deposited into their bank accounts. It doesn't add up, Perry. They are getting money from a source other than their paychecks except…"

"Except what?" Perry asked.

"Except for Brad Stout and Denny Boulder. They have no extra funds in their accounts, at least not that I could find."

"Maybe they are putting it in another account somewhere," Della suggested.

"Probably an overseas account," Perry added. Then as if a light had just been turned on, Perry's face lit up. "That's it! That's what they are doing!"

Paul had a mouthful of food but said with a muffled voice, "What are they doing?"

"Charging more for burning down those buildings and then pocketing money the rest of them don't know about! Paul, there has to be an overseas account. I am betting that we will find no other evidence that Boulder and Stout are involved. The firemen can say they were but if there is no money trail, they are home free. Get on it!"

"Okay, Perry. Consider it done. What are you two doing for the rest of the evening?"

"Going back to my place to go over the case. The preliminary hearing starts tomorrow," Perry said.

They ate the rest of their dinner discussing the case. Perry picked up the check and the three friends left Clay's.


	12. Chapter 12

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 12

12.1

Perry Mason had his hand cupped around Della Street's elbow as they entered the courtroom. He led her past newspaper reporters shouting questions at the attorney. Mason smiled and repeated over and over, "No comment." When he reached the defense table, Seth Palmer stood up and shook hands with his lawyer.

Della took her place next to Seth Palmer. Mason opened his briefcase, removed a few papers and handed them to Della who arranged them on the table.

Seth leaned over to Mason and whispered to the attorney. "Mr. Mason, I don't mind admitting I am scared. You can get me out of this mess, can't you?"

"Relax, Seth," Mason soothed. "We are just beginning. We have a long way to go."

Della placed her hand over Palmer's. "Mr. Mason will do all that he can to help you. Remember, this is only a hearing but is still important that you maintain your composure. Don't react to anything that is said." Della patted his hand and smiled. Seth smiled back at her and settled back in his chair.

Perry winked at Della. She always had a soothing effect on his clients. It was the reason he always left calming the clients to her. He watched as Hamilton Burger entered the courtroom with one of his deputies. Lt. Tragg was not far behind. He sat next to Burger on the aisle.

The judge's chambers door opened and Judge Joseph Coleson entered the courtroom as the bailiff called out, "All rise! The Honorable Judge Joseph Coleson presiding."

Della and Perry stood up. Perry grabbed Seth's arm and pulled him to his feet. The judge took his place behind the bench and sat down. "In the matter of the People versus Seth David Palmer, is the prosecution ready?"

Hamilton Burger rose to his feet and responded, "Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr. Mason, is the defense ready?"

Mason stood up. "The defense is ready."

"Mr. Burger, would you like to make an opening statement?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"You may begin, Mr. Burger."

Hamilton Burger got up and started addressing the court. "The defendant, Mr. Seth Palmer, was being blackmailed. Five years ago, the young fireman allowed a man to die in a fire. That's right, a fireman whose job is to protect the lives of those caught in a fire walked away from a man trapped in debris caused by that fire. He left the man behind to die. And, die he did. But, another fireman, Ted Jacoby saw him run from the scene. He saw Seth Palmer leave that man behind. He began blackmailing Mr. Palmer. He had taken a video on his phone. It showed Mr. Palmer running from his duty of helping the trapped man who was unable to help himself. Mr. Jacoby sent a copy of that video to the defendant. Seth Palmer had been paying blackmail to Ted Jacoby for five years… until he decided he would pay it no more.

"And how did he get out of paying that blackmail? Did he finally come to terms with his blackmailer? The answer is no, he did not. He found another way out of paying Mr. Jacoby.

"The prosecution will not praise Mr. Jacoby as a model citizen. He was a blackmailer and he too allowed that man to die instead of helping him. But, did that give Mr. Palmer the right to murder him in cold blood? No, no man has the right to take the life of another under those circumstances. Mr. Palmer could have decided to face his own actions and rendered the blackmail useless but that was not his decision. We will show that Mr. Palmer had motive and opportunity to kill Ted Jacoby, using another fire as the backdrop. We will produce witnesses who saw him standing over the dead body with a .22 in his hand and… when we produce enough evidence, we will ask that he be bound over for trial for murder in the first degree." Hamilton Burger sat back down.

"Mr. Mason, would you like to make an opening statement?" the judge asked.

Perry Mason stood up. "No, Your Honor. We will reserve our opening statement for when the defense puts on its case."

"Very well then. Mr. Burger, call your first witness."

"The people call Gabriel Nunez to the stand." Once Nunez had taken the oath and sat down in the witness stand, Burger approached him. "Please state your name and occupation for the court."

"My name is Gabriel Nunez and I work for the Los Angeles medical examiner."

"Did you have the opportunity to do the autopsy on Ted Jacoby?" Burger asked.

"I did."

"And what were your findings?"

"The deceased died from a bullet wound to the chest that entered his heart thereby stopping it." Nunez looked over at Perry Mason.

"Were you able to identify the bullet?" Burger asked.

"No, Mr. Burger. I do not shoot or own any guns. If they were outlawed, Mr. Jacoby would not have ended up on my table."

Mason rose to his feet. "Objection, Your Honor. We ask that the witness stick to facts. His opinion of whether guns should be outlawed is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial!"

"Sustained," Judge Coleson immediately ruled. "The witness will answer with facts."

Burger turned back to his witness. "Is this the bullet you removed from the deceased?"

Nunez examined the bullet carefully turning it around in his fingers. "Yes, this is the bullet. The police officer had me make a mark on it. This is it, right here," he said pointing at the mark he had made.

"Let the record show the deputy medical examiner has identified this bullet as the one that was removed from Ted Jacoby's chest," Burger exclaimed loudly. "We would like this entered as the people's exhibit A."

Perry got up, walked over to Hamilton Burger, examined the bullet and said, "No objections." He then returned to his seat.

"Now, Mr. Nunez," Burger said, "this bullet having caused Mr. Jacoby's death… at what time did you set the time of death?"

"He died between eight-thirty and nine o'clock."

"Thank you, Mr. Nunez." Burger turned around and headed to his seat. "Your witness, counselor."

Perry stood up. "Isn't it true that the fire would have some effect on establishing the time of death? Just as the cold would have?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Taking that into consideration, wouldn't it be possible that the deceased could have died as early as say… eight o'clock or even a quarter to eight?"

"It is possible but not likely. There was a fire raging that was moving swiftly. He probably would have been engulfed in flames." Nunez said. He wasn't about to let Mason make a fool out of him as he did so many other expert witnesses.

"So you are an expert on fires, then?" Perry said, faking surprise.

"Well… no… I am not."

"Then how could you possibly know how fast that fire would have been able to spread?" Mason demanded.

"Well… I just assume that… "

"Don't assume. Answer my questions with facts. Since you are not an expert on fires then you could not possibly know how fast they spread, now could you?"

"No, I guess not," Nunez shot Mason a look of disdain.

"Then not knowing how fast they can spread, it is possible that Jacoby died between seven forty five and eight o'clock, is it not?" Mason demanded in his courtroom booming voice.

"Yes," Nunez conceded, "it is possible but not likely."

"But possible," Mason repeated.

"Yes," Nunez said.

Perry Mason smiled. "Thank you. No more questions."

"Mr. Burger, any re-direct?" Judge Coleson asked.

"No, Your Honor."

"Call your next witness."

"The people call Lt. Arthur Tragg to the stand." Burger waited until Tragg was sworn in and sat down. "Lieutenant, you were on duty the night of the murder. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I was."

"And you were called to the scene by whom?"

"Denny Boulder, the man in charge of putting out the fire."

"And when you got to the building where the murder took place, what did you find?" Burger asked.

"There was a fire in the building. Mr. Jacoby had been moved by the fireman and taken to the first floor."

Perry looked over at Della. Neither of them had been told this, despite that they had requested and received the police report on the fire.

"And why was he moved?" Burger inquired.

"Because the fire had spread on that floor and the fireman in charge was afraid that the body might be destroyed in the fire."

"And what did you do next?"

"I examined the body. Ted Jacoby had a bullet wound to the chest."

"And did you find out if anyone had witnessed the shooting?" Burger asked.

"I did. There were no witnesses to the actual shooting but two firemen came upon the body. They had told me that they found the defendant standing over the body with a gun in his hand."

"Your Honor," Mason said as he stood up, "I object to this as not best evidence. Mr. Burger should call the witnesses themselves."

"Oh, I intend to, Mr. Mason." Burger smiled.

"Mr. Mason, I see no reason Lt. Tragg can't testify as to what the witness told him. Overruled." Coleson turned to Burger. "You may continue, Mr. Burger."

"Did you do a ballistic test on the gun in question?" Burger asked.

"Yes. It was fired from the gun that was found at the murder scene."

Burger went to the evidence table and picked up the .22. "Can you identify this weapon, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, it is the gun that shot the bullet that killed Ted Jacoby. It has my mark on it."

"Were you able to determine who the gun was registered to?"

"Yes, it is registered to the defendant," Tragg told the court.

Burger had the gun entered as Exhibit B. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Your witness."

Perry stood up. "Lieutenant Tragg, did you examine the murder scene?"

Tragg showed uneasiness as he selected his words carefully. "Not at that time. The fireman in charge would not allow me to go to the murder floor due to the fire."

Mason displayed disbelief. "You mean to tell me that you did not see the murder scene on the night of the murder?"

"That's what I said, counselor," Tragg snapped. "I did, however, see it the following day."

"Then you cannot say in all honesty that the murder scene had not been disrupted, can you?" Perry asked.

Tragg resented Mason's line of questioning. He knew fully well the fire chief could stop anyone, including police, from going into a burning building. "No, counselor, I can't since I am pretty sure the fire was disrupting the scene at the time."

The courtroom broke out in laughter. "Order!" Judge Coleson shouted as he banged his gavel.

"Besides the fire," Perry said with a smile, "you cannot say for certain that one of the firemen did not disrupt the scene, can you?"

"No, I cannot."

"Maybe then, Lieutenant," Perry said as he walked to his table to take a document from Della, "you can explain to the court why your police report did not mention that you were unable to survey the murder scene the night of the murder."

"I wasn't aware it didn't," Tragg snapped at Mason.

Mason handed him the report. "Let me refresh your memory, Lieutenant. Read your own report."

Tragg's face had turned beet red. He did not remember not having put that in the report. He had been up all day and all night and had to turn the report in. He read the section that Mason had pointed out.

"Does the report say that you were unable to see the scene directly after the murder, Lieutenant?"

"No, it does not," Tragg said, containing his anger at Mason.

"Why is that, Lieutenant? The murder scene could have been altered for all you know, couldn't it?"

Burger stood up. "Oh, Your Honor, Mr. Mason is making a big deal over what is standard procedure by the Fire Department. They always stop people from entering a building on fire and Mr. Mason knows that."

"We are all aware of fire department procedures, Mr. Burger. I don't think that is what Mr. Mason is questioning. He is questioning the fact that the murder floor could have been disturbed and the fact that none of that was in Lt. Tragg's report. Your objection is overruled. Continue, Mr. Mason," Judge Coleson ruled.

"I ask you again, the murder scene could have been altered and by humans this time, could it not?" Mason thundered.

"It could have but that doesn't change the fact that your client was standing over the dead body with the murder weapon in his hand, does it, counselor?" Tragg growled back at Mason.

"No, Lt. Tragg, it doesn't. Nor does it change the fact that either one of those firemen who claim to have seen him standing over the dead body with the murder weapon could have changed or covered up facts that would have proven the innocence of the defendant, does it?" Mason boomed.

"Your Honor, I object! Mr. Mason is badgering the witness," Burger exploded.

"Overruled, Mr. Burger!"

"Lieutenant?" Mason continued to thunder.

Lt. Tragg knew Mason had him trapped. There was only one way to answer. "No, it doesn't change the fact that they could have altered it."

"I noticed Mr. Burger did not happen to ask you about a paraffin test," Mason started to say when Hamilton Burger jumped to his feet.

"Your Honor, that was not covered in direct examination," Burger shouted.

"No, it wasn't, was it, Mr. Burger? I believe that is the point Mr. Mason is making. He has every right to question this officer on what procedures he took on the night of the murder. Overruled!"

"Was a paraffin test performed on the defendant, Lieutenant Tragg?" Mason asked.

"No, it was not," Tragg snapped back at Mason.

Mason turned on all the dramatics he could. "You mean to tell this court that you accused this man of shooting Ted Jacoby to death and you did not even perform a paraffin test on him to find out if he had even fired a weapon?"

Being a veteran of testifying dozens of times, Tragg contained the anger he now felt for the man in front of him when he answered. "That is right, counselor. There was a fire raging. I had witnesses running in and out of the fire. I had a dead body and I was unable to get to the murder scene. I did the best I could with what I had to work with," he growled at Mason.

"But not good enough, Lieutenant. A man's life is at stake. I have no further questions for this witness," Perry said and sat down.

Della whispered to him. "Perry, why didn't you ask about what he did find when he was able to survey the scene?"

"Because, Della, by that time it would not have been pertinent. It could easily have been altered. I wondered why Hamilton did not question him about it and then it hit me it was not in the report and neither was there anything about a paraffin test."

Tragg angrily stepped down from the stand and returned to his seat by Hamilton Burger. "The son of a …"

"Easy, Tragg, we knew this might happen. In fact, I told you, I was sure it would. Perry doesn't miss much. If I had been in his place, I would have done the same thing. It doesn't weaken our case once we put the rest on. Don't worry about it."

"Mason was just getting back at me for dancing with Della all evening," Tragg grumbled.

"Perry is a professional. He would never do that in court, you know that, Tragg. He was within his rights," Burger soothed. "He was just trying to protect his client."

"Mr. Burger, call your next witness," Judge Coleson called out, interrupting Burger and Tragg.

Hamilton Burger stood up. "The defense calls Denny Boulder to the stand." Boulder came from the back of the courtroom. He glanced at Mason as he passed him. His look was of pure hatred. Burger waited for his witness to be sworn in and walked to the witness stand.

"Mr. Boulder, you are in charge of the fire station in which the defendant works, are you not?"

"That is correct," Boulder answered.

"On the day of the murder, did you witness a fight between the defendant and the deceased?"

"I did."

"Will you tell the court what the argument was about?" Burger asked.

"Seth Palmer accused Ted Jacoby of blackmailing him."

"Is the man that accused Mr. Jacoby of blackmailing him in this courtroom?" Burger inquired.

"Yes, he is sitting beside Perry Mason," Boulder replied.

"Let the record show that the witness has identified the defendant as the man who accused Ted Jacoby of blackmailing him." Burger returned his attention back to Boulder. "What happened next?"

"Well, Ted told Seth he did not know what he was talking about. Then Seth told him he was not paying one more cent of blackmail. He said he had hired Perry Mason and if he continued to blackmail him, they would go to the police, as blackmail was a federal offense. Ted tried to leave and Seth grabbed him. He told him he was not letting him go until he agreed not to blackmail him anymore."

"Then what happened?" Burger urged him along.

"Well, then Ted told Seth that he was in no position to dictate. He said he would continue to pay him or he would tell the world what he did… that he had killed a man. Then he said something like, 'What would it be? The money or jail'?"

"And what happened next?"

"Seth said that he would kill him first," Denny Boulder stated, causing a murmur around the courtroom.

"And how did Mr. Jacoby react to that?"

"He did not get a chance to react to it. Seth was thinking that Jacoby was not going to back down and…"

"Objection!" Perry called out as he stood up. "Mr. Boulder could not possibly know what Seth Palmer was thinking. Would Mr. Burger like us to believe that Mr. Boulder could read his mind?"

"Sustained!" Coleson ruled.

"Mr. Boulder, please just tell the court what happened," Burger told his witness.

"Seth doubled up his fist and hit Ted directly in the nose. That is when Bert Fielder and Monte Skinner helped me separate them."

Hamilton Burger walked back to the defense table and picked up a paper. He walked back and handed the paper to Boulder. "Have you seen this before?"

"Yes."

"Where did you see it?"

"It was on the floor of the locker room. I picked it up after I sent Seth and Ted out of the locker room."

"Would you read it to the court please?"

"It says _Remember, by noon tomorrow or I tell the world how you killed that man in the Claymore apartment fire."_

"I would like this entered as exhibit C," Burger requested.

Mason stood up, went over to Burger who handed him the paper. After reading it, Mason said, "No objection."

"Your witness, Mr. Mason."

Judge Coleson addressed Mason. "Mr. Mason, do you anticipate your cross-examination will be lengthy?"

"I do, Your Honor," Mason replied.

"Then this is a good place to stop. Court is adjourned until tomorrow at nine o'clock when the defense will cross-examine Mr. Boulder." Coleson banged the gavel on the bench and left the courtroom.

"How did we do, Mr. Mason?" Seth Palmer asked his lawyer.

Mason patted his hand. "We did just fine. Don't worry, we will get our chance when Mr. Burger is done." The bailiff appeared and took Seth Palmer away.

"I can't believe Lt. Tragg left out the fact that he was unable to see the murder scene on the night of the murder," Della told Perry.

"I can. That scene would have been complete chaos, Della. Lt. Tragg did eventually get to investigate the murder scene. I am not surprised he forgot and left it out of the report. It gave me the opportunity to plant doubt that the scene had not have been disturbed. It was a break for us."

"You don't suppose Arthur left it out on purpose, do you?"

"I doubt it. Lt. Tragg is an excellent detective. He had been overworked with very little sleep. No, Della, I think it was an honest mistake made by an overtired detective. Just because he was tired didn't mean that I would not take advantage of it," Perry said. "At any rate, it just might be the point that causes reasonable doubt."

"So what next?" Della asked.

"Let's find out what Paul has learned today. Then I will take you to a nice, quiet romantic dinner," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Uh huh, and then what?"

"We are going back to the office to go over Boulder's testimony and see where I can punch some holes in it."

"So the romance ends with the dinner," she said with smiling eyes.

"It doesn't have to if you are willing to break one of your office rules," he said quietly to be sure no one could hear him.

"Well, there is no chance Gertie will be there late at night. Maybe just this once," Della teased him.

Perry laughed. "Let's go get dinner and work out of the way then." Della collected his paperwork, stuffed it in his briefcase and the lawyer left the courtroom with his secretary.

12.2

"Are things set at the Brent building?"

The man on the other end of the phone replied, "Yes, why?"

"Because tonight is the night. I just heard Mason tell his secretary they will have to work late tonight."

"Good. After tonight, Mason will no longer be a problem."

"See that he isn't."


	13. Chapter 13

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 13

13.1

Perry finished the last of the Chinese food. "You know, Della, I could have taken you out to a nice dinner. We did not have to eat Chinese take-out in the office."

Della began picking up the empty containers that held the Chinese food. "Dinner out would have been at least a couple hours." She looked at the clock and back at Perry. "See, we finished dinner in less than a half hour." She put the containers in the bag they had carried them in. Just as she bent down to place the paper bag in the waste basket she stopped.

"What's the matter, Della?"

"I was just thinking this probably is not the best place to put this. The office might not smell very pretty in the morning." She turned and smiled at Mason. "Maybe I better put it out in the hall for the janitor to pick up." Della walked over to the private entrance into Mason's office, opened the door and set the bag on the floor. Della sniffed the air. _What is that smell?_ She breathed in again but did not smell anything. Della shrugged her shoulders, turned and went back into the office. She was met on the other side of the door by the lawyer who immediately took her in his arms. Perry bent down and began kissing her neck. "Perry, this isn't getting any work done."

"Work can wait," Mason said, breathing heavily. He kissed her cheek, her forehead and her nose before settling his lips on hers. Della knew if they were going to get anything done, she was going to have to stop him and fast before she lost the will to do so.

"Perry," she whispered as she began pushing him gently backwards. "Not now."

Mason's breathing had quickened. As Della started pushing him back, he pulled her tighter. "You said we could break your office rule tonight."

"After the work is done." She pushed back against his hold and looked into his eyes. "After the work is done," she repeated.

"After the work," he sighed as he repeated her words.

"After." Della was insistent.

"Alright, then let's get started." He grabbed his briefcase and set it on the table across the room. The attorney opened it and began putting papers on the table. "I wonder why we have not heard from Paul."

"I don't know," Della said. "Would you like me to call his office?"

"Yes, see if he is back yet," he answered.

Della walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. After dialing the Drake Detective Agency, she waited for an answer. "Hello, I am calling for Mr. Mason. Is Mr. Drake in? I see. Will you have him call Mr. Mason when he comes in? Thank you. Goodbye."

"Paul's not in," Perry said.

"No. The operative said he went to the Morgan Paint Company," she informed him.

"Alright, then let's get down to work," Perry said. He sat down at the table and began reading the day's courtroom transcript.

13.2

Paul Drake tried the door to the Morgan paint company. The door was not locked. Paul stepped inside realizing this was not the best idea. This is exactly what he scolded Perry for doing. He had no business entering this building but he knew that he had to come up with something if Perry was going to save his client from the death penalty. Perry got away with it all the time so why couldn't he? It was after hours and the building was dark… with the exception of one light that seemed to be on in the back of the company. Drake made his way past dozens of stacks of paint. Each stack contained a different color of paint. Paul could not see very far in what appeared to be a very big warehouse. He headed for the only light in the building.

When he arrived at the door, it was open. A large pane glass window was covered by curtains. The detective went over to the corner of the window. A small section of it was not covered by the curtain. A man was sitting at a desk. Paul did not recognize the man but he certainly recognized the man that was with him. Brad Stout stood beside the desk. Since the door was open, Paul did not have any trouble making out what they were saying.

"Your firemen are willing to go ahead despite the fact that there is a spotlight on them regarding this trial?" the man asked.

"We had intended to lay low until this thing was over and things settled down but the money was too good for them to refuse, even Boulder. He is usually more cautious but when I told him how much this would be, he jumped at it."

"Good. I am worried about that damn nosey lawyer. Mason is not just a good lawyer, he has an uncanny ability for deduction. Give him time, he can figure out just about any murder. He is known for finding the real murderer and turning them over to the police. What if he is able to find out who the killer of Ted Jacoby is?"

Brad Stout laughed. "Seth Palmer killed Ted Jacoby. I know it wasn't any of the rest of the guys. Marcus was with Bert Fielder. Fielder is most definitely capable of murder but believe me, Marcus is a wimp. He's Fielder's alibi."

"Unless Fielder did it and your friend is simply too scared to tell anyone. After all, he would not want any of those fires to be scrutinized closely."

"The police can scrutinize them as closely as they want to. These guys are professionals. None of them can be traced to these fires," Stout assured him.

"You better be right, Brad. If the insurance company were to cancel payment on the fire here, you can count on me blowing the whistle on you."

"Don't worry about it. Mason is not going to find out anything more after tonight. The boys decided he needed to be dealt with. He's working late tonight with that secretary of his. You will have to forgive me but I took the liberty of taking your most flammable paint. In your top right drawer you will find a receipt signed by Della Street accepting delivery of that paint. A delivery boy was taking a package to Mason's office. Some official-looking large envelope, probably with legal papers in it. Anyway, I paid the delivery boy to stuff that receipt in the jacket on the package. He left just the signature line visible. Miss Street, who was distracted by telephones, put her signature right on that receipt." Stout grinned.

"I don't understand."

"The paint is in a utility room down the hall from Mason's private entrance. There is going to be a small fire in the Brent building," he informed him.

The man smiled. "A small fire?"

"Well, maybe small is not quite the right word. Let's just say Mason is going to perish in that building tonight and get the blame for the fire to boot."

The man began laughing. "Do you have to take out the secretary as well? Have you ever seen her? Whew! What a looker!"

"Yeah, I got a real close-up look at her. You're right, she's a beautiful woman but she is loyal to Mason and is in the building with him tonight."

"Too bad. What a waste but that is what she gets for working for the wrong man. What time is the fire going to start?"

"Very shortly. Denny wanted to be sure everyone was out of the building except Mason and Street… and a couple people in the Drake Detective Agency. We don't want to kill anyone more than we have to. A lot of casualties will cause the police to look at it closer," Stout replied.

Paul would have seen his own face turned pale if it had been possible. He had to get back to Perry and Della. He turned quickly and bumped into a stack of paint. One of the cans fell from the top of the stack and hit the floor in a very loud crash. Paul stopped for only a moment and started moving toward the door.

"What was that?" Stout asked, drawing a gun from his beltline where he had shoved it earlier.

"Sounded like a gallon of paint hitting the floor. But that is not possible… unless someone knocked it down."

"Turn on the light in the main room," Stout ordered.

"That is not a good idea, the company is supposed to be closed. I can turn on a couple but I don't want to draw attention to anyone being here," the owner said.

"Okay, turn on what you can." The man put on a couple lights in the end of the factory where the crash had originated. Stout watched as he reached into his desk and pulled out a revolver. The two of them moved out into the main floor. Stout pointed for the man to move to the right as he moved to the left.

Paul instinctively knew he was being pursued. He moved quietly and carefully using the stacks of paint to conceal his presence. Damn! He knew better than this. This was Perry's specialty, sneaking around without getting caught. He should have been more careful. Why did he have to knock that paint down and alert them that someone was in the factory?

Stout continued to his left. He saw a shadow. He could not make out the man's features but he could tell that he was a big man. He aimed and fired his weapon.

Paul felt a bullet whiz past his head, forcing him to crouch lower. Suddenly another man appeared to his right. The man raised his gun and pointed it at Paul. Drake reached over, grabbed the handle of a paint can and pulled it out of its position in the stack causing the entire row to come crashing to the floor. The man put his hand up in the air to block one of the paint cans but was too late. It hit him in the head. His world turned black as he fell to the floor. Drake glanced back only long enough to determine the man was no longer in the mix.

Stout headed in the direction of what he knew was a stack of paint that had been knocked over. When he arrived, he saw the factory owner lying on the floor. He reached down and checked his pulse. It was strong... just knocked out. He had to get the bastard that did this. He had no idea how long he had been there or how much he had heard. He ducked out from behind a stack of paint. Right up ahead was a man heading for the door. Stout had to stop him. He stood behind another stack of paint and gave it a hard push. It tipped over toward the intruder.

Paul saw the stack of paint tipping. He ran to his left just in time as the row of gallons of paint tumbled down beside him. He was almost to the door. The problem was he knew the man was armed and the minute he appeared in front of the door, the streetlight would illuminate his entire body. He would be a sitting duck. He could not allow this man to stop him. He had to get to Perry and Della. Paul stayed behind the last stack of paint. He could not stay here. His opponent could easily come around the end and again Paul would be vulnerable.

A police squad car cruised down the street. Lucky break, Paul thought. Well, it is now or never. Drake ran for the door, grabbed the knob and hit it with his shoulder at the same time. He rolled out of the door and dropped to the ground. No shot was forthcoming though. As quickly as he had rolled to the ground, Drake rolled right back up on his feet. The cruiser had continued on, not noticing the drama unfolding behind it. Drake made a dash for his car. He jumped in, started the engine and squealed the tires as the car jumped into gear.

Damn it! He had had the man dead to right and could not take the shot. He would have alerted the police. Stout ran for the door but only made it in time to watch the car down the street. Denny was not going to be pleased. He did not even get a look at the man and God only knew what he had heard.

13.3

Paul reached for his phone and dialed Perry's office number. The phone began ringing… once… twice… three times. "Come on, Perry, answer the damn phone!" he shouted in frustration. "What the hell are you two doing that you can't answer the phone?" Paul rolled his eyes. He did not want the answer to that question. Hanging up the phone, he dialed Lt. Tragg. Before the phone even rang one time, he hung up and dialed Lt. Andy Anderson.

"Lt. Anderson," said the official-sounding lieutenant.

"Andy, listen. Perry and Della could be in a lot of danger. I don't have time to explain but I have reason to believe that the Brent building is going to be set on fire with the intention of trapping them in there. Call the fire department, but Andy, throw your weight around and have a different fire station than Boulder's respond to the alarm."

"Paul, what is this all about?" Anderson asked.

"Just do it, Andy! There isn't time to explain!" Drake hung up the phone and dialed Perry again, still no answer. "Oh for cripes sake you two, can't you wait until you get home?" Paul hung up and sped up his car.

13.4

The phone in Mason's office rang again. Della glanced up from the table she and Mason had been working at. "Perry, that is the second time that phone has rung. Don't you think we better answer it?"

"No, Della. I want to get through Boulder's testimony. Let it ring. If it is Paul, he'll call back and if he doesn't we can call him before we leave. Now, where is the section where Boulder said they found Seth over the body?"

"Perry, do you smell something?"

Mason sniffed the air. He looked over at Della. He could see the alarm on her face. "Smells like something is burning. It is probably just Joe burning something in the incinerator. You know we get that from time to time at night." Mason went back to the court transcript. He raised his head and sniffed the air again. "That smells like paint. He would not be burning paint." Mason got up and walked swiftly over to the private entrance of his office. He placed his hand on the door. The door did not feel any warmer than usual. Slowly Perry opened the door. The smell of paint was stronger as well as burning wood. He looked down the hall. The entire corridor was engulfed in flames. The smell of burning paint was extremely strong now. The fire was burning quickly.

Perry walked over to the glass box on the wall. Using his elbow, he rammed it into the glass. After it shattered, Perry grabbed the fire extinguisher. He pointed it at the fire and began spraying it. It had very little effect on the fire.

Della entered the hall. "Oh my god!"

"Della, call the fire department!" Perry shouted.

Della ran back into the office. She grabbed the phone. After dialing, she listened… nothing. She hung it up and tried again. The phone was dead. Della looked over at the door. Smoke began pouring into the room. She ran back and entered the hall. "Perry!" The smoke was thick. She could not see him. "Perry!"

Perry appeared out of the smoke. "We have to get out of here. If the smoke doesn't get us, the fumes from the paint will." He grabbed Della's arm and pulled her into his office. Mason slammed the door. Smoke was pouring underneath the door.

Della ran over to the table and collected the papers. She quickly shoved them into Perry's briefcase, while Perry opened his safe. Della brought the briefcase to him. He shoved it into his safe and locked it. "Now let's get out of here. Mason reached for the door. It was locked. "Della, how did this door get locked?"

"I don't know, Perry. We came in that door. It is only locked at night, you know that."

"Someone locked it. Where's your purse?"

"On my desk," she replied.

"And your keys?"

Della shook her head.

"In your purse," he answered for her. "And I threw my keys on your desk when we came in. We will just have to wait for the fire department," Perry said.

"Perry, I could not reach the fire department. The phones are dead. Can we get out through the private entrance?" Della asked.

"Not a chance. The fire is blocking the entrance into the cross hall. We're trapped. What about your cell phone?"

"It is in my purse… and yours?"

"In the car."

"Perry, we have to get out of here." Della started coughing.

"Let's go out on the terrace. Maybe we can attract someone's attention." Perry coughed. He pulled his handkerchief and handed it to Della as he coughed again. The office was filling with smoke. Mason knew they did not have much time. They had to get out of the office. He and Della moved to the terrace door. He reached for it. It was locked. Perry reached for the lever that would release the lock on the door. It was jammed. He was coughing again.

"What's wrong?" Della asked.

"It's locked and it's jammed." He went into a coughing fit.

"Perry, take this." Della attempted to hand the handkerchief to him.

"No," he said as he continued coughing. "Keep it over your mouth and nose. Breathe shallow." Perry went back to the terrace door and tried to force it open. "Someone tampered with this. It is all marked up," he told Della, coughing again. He walked back to the table, picked up a chair and threw it through the sliding glass door. Glass shattered everywhere. "Come on, Della, let's get some fresh air."

Della followed Perry out onto the terrace. No sooner had they stepped out that a bullet whizzed by them and hit the wall. Perry pulled Della down to the floor. Another bullet was shot, again just missing them. "Whoever is doing this is trying to force us back into the office," he said.

"Looks like we are being given a choice," Della responded. "Death by a bullet or death by fire."

"No one is going to die. We'll get out of here." Another bullet whizzed past them again. Only this time much closer. "We can't stay out here."

"Perry, we can't go inside either!" Della cried. Another bullet ranged out, this time it hit its mark. Della yelled out. The bullet lodged in her upper arm.

Perry checked the wound. He took the handkerchief and tied it around Della's arm. He led her back into the office. The smoke was so thick that neither of them could see very far into the room. Perry reached for the phone. As Della had said, the phone was dead. He turned back to Della. "The only way out is through the office door." Perry could barely breathe. His lungs felt like they were paralyzed. He lowered his shoulder and rammed the door. He did it over and over.

Della made her way through the smoke. "Perry, stop! You can't knock out the entire door frame. It opens into the office." Both of them were coughing. It was becoming next to impossible to breathe. The fire was starting to burn through the door. Della grabbed Perry. "I can't breathe." She fainted in his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

The Case of the Neglectful

Chapter 14

14.1

Perry caught Della as she passed out. He picked her up in his arms. He could not see through the smoke. It had become nearly impossible to draw air into his lungs. His eyes were burning. He could not stop coughing.

"PERRY, DELLA!" Paul yelled as loud as he could. He pounded on the door.

"PAUL! WE ARE LOCKED IN. THE KEYS ARE ON DELLA'S DESK!"

Drake turned toward the desk but Andy Anderson had already retrieved them. He quickly tossed the keys to Drake. Paul fumbled with the keys until he found the one that fit the lock. He turned the key and jerked the door open. Smoke poured out of the office. Perry ran out of the room carrying Della. He went into another coughing fit.

Seeing that Perry was having trouble breathing, Paul took Della out of his arms. "Let's get out of here!"

Andy ran to the outer office door and opened it as Paul carried Della out. Anderson went back to Perry. He put his arm over his shoulder and assisted him out of the office. They were met in the hall by two firemen.

"You people get the hell out of the building! Take the south stairs. The elevators shut down automatically. There will be a fireman down there with an emergency crew. Now move!"

"Does he really think we want to stay and have a party?" Paul said as he headed for the south stairs.

They began making the descent down the stairs. Perry was leaning heavily on Andy. Anderson grunted under his weight. "How come you get to carry Della and I get Perry?"

"Della's prettier and weighs considerably less than Perry."

"No kidding. How did you figure that out?" Andy asked sarcastically.

"I'm a detective," Paul responded.

When they reached the final floor, emergency personnel raced toward them. A paramedic took Della out of Paul's arms and carried her to a waiting ambulance. He placed her on a stretcher and immediately began to treat her.

Another paramedic placed an oxygen mask over Perry's face. He breathed in deeply as his lungs began to relax. His head began to clear and his breathing returned to normal. Mason ripped the oxygen mask off his face and hurried over to the ambulance. Andy was standing next to the paramedic who was treating Della. Perry bent down beside Della and ran his hand softly down her face.

"Mr. Mason, she is going into shock. We have to get her to the hospital. Please stand back, sir," the paramedic told him.

"I am going with her," Perry insisted.

"I am sorry sir but no one is permitted to ride in the ambulance but authorized personnel. You will have to follow in your car."

"I am going with her. If you try to stop me, I will search the law books until I find something I can sue you for and remember… I never lose."

The young man looked at his partner and shrugged. "Alright, I guess just this once." The two men picked up the stretcher and lifted Della into the ambulance. One of the paramedics stayed in the ambulance while the other got behind the wheel.

Perry jumped in and settled beside Della. He took her hand, wiped some dirt off her face and said quietly, "Hang on, baby. You're going to be fine."

Andy watched as the driver turned on the siren and sped down the road. He waited for Paul to return. He had gone back to make sure his employees had got out of the building. When he reappeared, Andy went over to him. "They took Della to LA General. Perry went with her in the ambulance."

"They don't allow anyone but authorized personnel in an ambulance," Paul remarked.

Andy smiled. "Perry threatened to sue them."

"And I'll bet he reminded them he never loses too," Paul responded.

"He did." Andy laughed.

"I am headed to the hospital. Do you want to come along?" Paul asked.

"Yes. I want to talk to you and Perry." Both men got into Paul's vehicle. He started the car and squealed the tires as he raced away from the scene.

14.2

"I don't understand it," Denny Boulder said. "We should have gotten a call to respond to the fire in the Brent building by now. Are you sure the fire was started on time, Bert?"

Fielder, a bit indignant snarled, "Of course it was set on time. Mason and his secretary should be history by now."

"That doesn't explain why we have not been called to put the fire out," Mitch pointed out.

Marcus entered the station room. "That is because the call went to another fire station."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fielder demanded.

"Exactly what I just said. It went to another fire station. It just came over the radio."

Boulder turned toward Marcus. "I don't like it. The Brent building is in our zone so why was it called in to another fire station?"

"I called the dispatcher. He said the police requested that this station not handle the fire." Marcus sat down at the table. All of his fellow firefighters were silent.

"Why would the police ask for another station?" Mitch inquired.

"It is obvious to me. They either know about our activities or someone asked the police that we not handle the fire," Bert said.

"If someone requested we not handle it then they know about our activities period," Marcus said angrily.

"We don't know that they do so let's not panic," Boulder said trying to calm everyone down.

"Come on, Denny. For cripes' sake. They requested another firehouse," Bert cried. "Now why would they do that? We were supposed to make sure that Mason did not come out alive."

Monte Skinner walked into the room. "They took Mason and Street to the hospital in an ambulance."

"They better be in a body bag," Bert said.

"They took them to the hospital, you jerk," Marcus snarled. "If they were in a body bag, they would have been taken to the morgue. I never should have gotten involved in this mess. We are going to go to jail unless..." He stood in mid-sentence.

"Unless what? You better not be thinking of ratting out on the rest of us or..." Bert said, raising his voice.

"Or you will what, kill me? Trying to kill Mason is what got us into mess in the first place," Marcus shouted back at him.

"Why don't you all just shut up?" Monte said. "This whole situation was making me physically sick. That has changed. We all got into this for our own reasons. Right now, I just want to survive it. I have a suggestion. We simply offer up the real killer to Mason. His client gets off and he forgets about the rest of us. Then I am out of this. I have an offer for a job in Colorado and I am going to take it."

"Palmer killed Ted," Mitch said.

"You're a fool if you believe that," Monte responded. "Mason doesn't defend guilty clients. He is not going to stop until he has the real killer. So I say we give him to Mason."

"And just how do we go about doing that?" Denny asked.

"Yeah, genius," Bert snarled. "If Palmer didn't do it, then how do we know which one of us did kill him?"

"You can answer that, Bert." Monte stared directly at him.

"What the hell are you talking about? You think I killed Ted? You are insane," Bert yelled as anger began to rise.

"Am I, now? Why don't you explain what you were doing at Brad Stout's apartment?" Monte accused.

"What?" Bert's face betrayed his surprise.

Monte pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. It was the one he had taken from Stout's apartment. "I suspected something had been not right with this operation from the beginning. I talked to Brad and was going to talk to Denny today about it. Where has all the extra money been going?"

"I don't have a clue what the hell you are talking about, Skinner," Bert yelled.

"Monte, what is this all about?" Denny asked.

"Mr. Fielder had been holding out on us," he answered. "I saw him go into the Claymore Apartment Complex so I followed him. He had a key to Brad's apartment. He entered the apartment. When he came out, he had this manila envelope in his hand. But, when he left the building, he tripped on a rolled-up rug." Monte knew that most of what he was saying was a lie but it did not matter to him. He did see Bert go into the Claymore Apartment Complex when he was coming out. He assumed that Fielder was after the same thing he was. Monte found out that there was more money being made than was being revealed by Denny. Someone was pocketing the money. Monte suspected that Brad and Denny were the culprits but Fielder was the best one to blame it on. After all if they were going to hand someone to Perry Mason, Bert Fielder was the most believable to have murdered Ted Jacoby. He had threatened Mason and attacked him. Who cared which one of them actually did it as long as Mason was convinced?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fielder shouted.

"This envelope contains all the passwords and authorizations to an account. If you check this, you will see that money had been transferred to an account in the name of Bert Fielder. Check the amounts, gentlemen. There was more money in this account than was divided between us."

Boulder took the papers from Skinner. He glanced down the report. It was the account that he and Stout had put all the money in. It showed the transfers to all of the firemen's accounts. Of course, it did not show any transfers to a Boulder or Stout. They had plans on how to get the money without it tying it to them.

"If you will notice, all of the rest of the money was transferred to Bert's account."

"You son of a bitch!" Boulder shouted. He leaped at Fielder, grabbing him by the neck. "You stole our money!"

Fielder could not breathe let alone answer the charges against him. He tried pulling Boulder off his neck to no avail.

Marcus and Mitch grabbed Boulder and yanked him from Fielder. "Calm down, Denny!" Mitch yelled.

Boulder realized that all of Stout's money and his was gone... every penny. He not only lost the money that he and Stout had kept from the others but also his share of the take. He stared at Fielder in pure hatred. Everything he had worked for was gone and he could not even try to claim it or the rest of them would know what he and Brad had been doing. "So you killed Ted. And here I thought it was Palmer."

"You are not hanging that rap on me! I didn't kill him!" Bert shouted.

"Someone killed him and I don't believe it was Seth Palmer," Monte said. "He is not capable of killing but you are, Bert."

"Me? It was you who came up with the idea of killing Mason in a fire!"

"Who said he did?" Boulder asked.

"Don't start that crap. You were there. You know damn well he did," Fielder screamed.

"That is funny," said Mitch, "I don't remember that either."

"For that matter neither do I," spoke up Marcus.

Bert Fielder looked at his fellow firefighters in panic. "I don't believe this. You are trying to frame me for murder. Well, you won't get away with it."

"Yes, we will. You were stupid enough to attack Mason. When he receives this ledger and the rest of these papers, he will believe that you transferred money into accounts in our names. See, Bert, the police are going to find that all of those accounts were actually opened by you." Monte handed him copies of signature cards. "All of them were signed in your handwriting."

"I didn't sign these," Fielder complained.

"It is your handwriting," Monte pointed out.

"I don't care. I didn't sign them. You won't get away with this. I'll tell Mason all about the fires. I am not going down alone."

"You are not going to tell Mason anything," Monte Skinner said.

"How do you propose to stop me?" Bert sneered.

"The same way you were going to stop Mason," Boulder said.

Fielder panicked and tried to run for the door. Marcus put his foot out and tripped him. When he fell to the floor, he hit his head and was knocked out cold. "He'll be out for a while. What do we do now?"

"We will be called to put out a fire any minute now," Monte said. "We put Fielder in the truck. Drop him and one of us at the back of the store. He dies in the fire. Mason can't call a dead man to the stand."

All the men were silent for a minute until Marcus spoke up. "They can't tie us to Jacoby's murder. With Bert unable to deny killing Jacoby and with what we give Mason, we will be home free. I don't like it but at least we will all be out of this mess."

"Well, I don't like it at all. After all we have been through, we lose all the money," Mitch Shepherd complained.

"Would you rather go to prison until you are old? Collecting money for allowing fires to burn is not exactly legal," Monte said.

"Everything we have worked for goes up in flames," Boulder said quietly. "Not one of us will have a dime to show for it. And Fielder was behind all of it. I should have fired that hot-head a long time ago. At least we will have Mason off our backs."

"We don't have a choice, Denny," Skinner said. "So what will it be?" The alarm sounded. "Well?"

"Put Fielder in the truck. Marcus, answer the alarm. Tell them we are on our way."

14.3

Perry Mason paced back and forth in the emergency waiting room. His throat was dry and sore and his eyes still burned from the smoke. None of that mattered to him at the moment. The only thing that mattered was the woman he was waiting for word from the doctors. He had argued with them but they would not allow him back in the treatment room with Della. They left him in the waiting room to fend for himself. Every minute that passed was agonizing. The only place he wanted to be was with Della. The door to the waiting room opened. Paul Drake and Andy Anderson walked in. "Any word yet, Perry?" Paul asked.

"Nothing. They would not let me go back to the treatment room."

"That is for the best, Perry. You would just get in the way, pal," Paul said. Perry jerked his head in Paul's direction and gave him a questioning look. Paul smiled. "Face it, Perry, you would want to be right there beside Della and in their way."

Perry half smiled. "So?"

"So, you wait here. Quit worrying. Della will be fine." Perry nodded and dropped into a chair in exhaustion.

"Perry, I know this is not a good time but I would still like to ask you some questions," Andy asked.

"Go ahead," he replied.

"Why didn't you call the fire department?"

"Della tried. The phones were disconnected."

"Why would you disconnect your phones?"

"I didn't. Someone disconnected them. We couldn't get out of the office. Della's keys were in her purse on her desk along with my keys. Someone locked the door."

"Did you see or hear anyone?" Paul asked.

"No. Della and I were working on tomorrow's cross examination of Denny Boulder."

"Perry, why didn't you at least go out on the terrace for air?" Andy asked.

"We did but someone was in the building next door somewhere above our floor level. They started shooting at us, I presume to force us back into the office. When Della was shot, I had to take her back in to protect her."

"The fire started outside your private entrance?" Andy asked.

"Down the hall. It looked like it started in the utility room. The smell of paint was strong but to my knowledge there has never been any paint stored in that room."

"Perry, one of the police officers called Paul and me and said they found a receipt that Della signed for the paint."

Mason looked at Anderson. "We did not buy any paint. Della would not have taken delivery of something we did not order."

"She could have signed one accidently. Did she receive anything that she did have to sign for?"

"No, we have not… no, wait, that is not true. Some legal papers came by courier. Della did sign for those," Perry said.

"What courier?" Paul asked.

"I don't know but Della would have filed it. In fact, there is no way the other receipt would still be on Della's desk. She files things immediately."

"It was planted on the desk by whoever locked that door," Paul surmised.

"It makes sense," Andy agreed. "I'll check it out. We will also try to find out if anyone saw anything from the other building. Maybe someone can identify the killer."

"It doesn't make sense," Perry said. "Why would they shoot Della? That would only prove that someone was trying to kill us by forcing us back into the fire."

"Maybe they weren't trying to actually hit her," Paul offered. "Just get close enough to scare you back inside."

"Whoever was shooting probably doesn't even know they shot her," Andy said. He sat down.

"Aren't you going to start investigating this tonight?" Mason asked.

"That was the reason for the questions," he said. "I am not leaving here until I know Della is alright."

Mason smiled. "I can't fault you for that. What about the Brent building?"

"Surprisingly enough, the damage was not extensive. Just the hall outside your office. The paint caused a lot of smoke. The fire was stopped before it burned completely through your door. Your office was untouched other than possible smoke damage. You were damn lucky Paul called it in when he did. Much longer and you and Della would not be with us." Andy nodded at Paul.

Perry stood up, faced his friend of many years. "In all the excitement, I forgot to thank you for saving Della's and my life. So thanks, Paul." Perry put out his hand.

Drake shook his hand. "You are lucky Della was with you. It made me act faster. If it had just been you… well…"

Mason smiled. "I have always said that Della is my good luck charm."

The door to the emergency room opened. The doctor on call walked in. "Mr. Mason?"

"How's Della?" Perry asked.

"Miss Street is going to be fine. We have removed the bullet. She was overcome by smoke but she is recovering. She is no longer in shock, probably because the paramedics acted quickly. There is no reason she shouldn't make a complete recovery. I am going to admit her to the hospital at least overnight, maybe one extra day to be on the safe side."

"I want to see her," Perry said.

The doctor smiled. "I thought you would but don't overtire her, Mr. Mason. She has been through quite an ordeal. In fact, so have you. You should go home and rest."

"Not until I see Della." Mason was insistent.

"Right this way," the doctor said.

"Paul, can you hang around? I don't have a car here."

"Take your time, pal."

Perry followed the doctor back to the emergency treatment room. "Not too long, Mr. Mason. She needs rest."

Perry walked over to Della. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. Taking her hand in his, he brushed back an unruly curl and kissed her forehead.

"I thought we weren't going to show affection in public," Della mumbled.

"We aren't in public," he said, kissing her hand.

"What happened? How did you get us out of there?" she said barely audibly.

"I didn't. Paul got us out and called the fire department." Perry frowned. "I am going to have to ask him how he knew the building was on fire and why Boulder's crew was not the ones that responded to the fire."

"I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Don't try, Della. Go to sleep."

She reached up with her good arm and ran her hand down his cheek. "For a handsome man, you look terrible."

He smiled. "I told you the chemistry between us would one day set the office on fire."

Della reached down and squeezed his hand. "How bad is our office?"

"Just some smoke damage. You might have to redecorate."

"Sounds like fun." Della turned serious. "Perry, someone tried to kill us."

"Five firemen tried to kill us and probably would have completed the job if Boulder's crew had answered that fire alarm."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nail every damn one of them," he answered.

Della closed her eyes. "I love you, Perry."

"I love you too, Della." He bent down and kissed her lips softly. "Sleep now, baby. I'll stop in in the morning before going to court." He kissed her again. She reached up, ran her hand down his cheek and smiled.

The doctor stayed outside the treatment room. He did not want to intrude on what was obviously a private moment between the lawyer and his secretary. The doctor smiled. _So, the gossip columns were right_. "Mr. Mason, I am going to have to ask you to leave now."

Perry stood up. He squeezed Della's hand one more time and left the room. On the way out all he could think about was putting those five firemen behind bars. They made their biggest mistake yet… attacking his Della.


	15. Chapter 15

The Case of Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 15

15.1

The fire truck raced down the street toward the warehouse. Denny Boulder's mind was not on the fire. What was he going to tell Brad Stout? He had been the one to convince him not to move the funds into accounts in their names in the United States as the others had requested. It had not been his intention to cheat Brad. It had been a very profitable venture for both of them. Not only did it make sure there was no trail back to them but it also allowed them to collect money that the others did not know about. But that had turned out to be a disastrous decision. The money was gone. How could he possibly tell Brad?

There had to be a way to retrieve the money out of the account Bert Fielder had placed the funds in. Otherwise there would be a major problem with Brad. He would have to be honest with him. The two of them would figure out a way to get the money.

One thing bothered him though, if Monte Skinner found those records then why did he not notice that none of the money had been transferred into accounts to either him or Brad? He never bothered to mention it to the others. He had to have known something was wrong. Denny shook off the doubt. He probably was only concerned with the fact that there was a great deal more money than had been divided between the firemen. His anger over all that money that Bert stole probably clouded his perspective of what had happened.

All of the other firemen at least had their cut. Denny and Brad had nothing. All of their money was now in an account under Fielder's name. The bastard would pay with his life for stealing their money. He would see to that.

The thing that concerned him the most was Perry Mason. Would he accept finding Ted Jacoby's murderer, thereby clearing his client or would he try to nail the rest of them? Mason was like a terrier with a bone. Everyone knew that. He did not stop until he had all the facts. Would he continue to dig further even after he cleared his client? Time would tell. If he did, they would have to kill him and this time they would have to succeed. They could not afford to allow Mason to continue this case. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. He was in the profession to make money, after all. If there was no more money to be made, he would move on to the next case. Yes, Denny was sure he was worrying for nothing after all. Mason would move on to the next big money client.

The fire truck pulled up in front of the warehouse. Boulder started barking orders at his men immediately. He glanced toward the back of the warehouse and hoped that Monte was taking care of business.

15.2

Monte Skinner stopped the fire chief's car and looked around. There did not appear to be anyone around. He went to the trunk of the car, unlocked it and with some difficulty pulled out the unconscious body of Bert Fielder. He dragged him over to the door and let him drop to the pavement. Using his elbow, Skinner broke the small window and put his hand in. He unlatched the deadbolt lock and opened the door.

Skinner picked up Fielder and dragged him into the warehouse. He could smell smoke. There was a fire raging in the warehouse and it was spreading fast. Skinner dragged Fielder toward the flames. He placed his body into the path of the growing flames. He did not see the drunk that had followed him into the building.

Monte retraced his steps and went back to the car. He got in, started it up and drove the vehicle around to the front of the warehouse.

The drunk came out from behind his hiding place. He went over to see what the fireman had dumped on the floor. As he staggered over to Bert Fielder, he thought about all the stuff he had been able to take from burning buildings. He was in and out before the fire department even knew he was there. This time would be no different. Right now his curiosity had got the better of him. He had to see what was so important that the fireman had to come in the back and then drive away again. It must be something that would help put out the fire.

As he approached Fielder, his eyes grew large. It was another fireman in full-dress regalia. The drunk checked for a pulse. The man was alive. Terror ripped through his alcohol-filled body. He backed up quickly, tripped over a paint can and fell to the floor. He stared at the man in front of him. He had to get out of there. He did not mind stealing in order to buy his booze but he wanted no part in what he figured was murder.

15.3

The clock beside Perry Mason's bed went off. He drowsily opened his eyes. It was still sounding. Why hadn't Della turned it off? She always got up before he did and allowed him that little extra sleep. Mason listened to the sound of the alarm. He rolled over to reach over Della to shut it off. Della was not there. The night before came back to him. His Della would not shut off that alarm this morning. His anger rose, remembering their close call. The painful memory of Della collapsing in his arms was the driving force to get him out of bed.

He reached over, shut off the alarm and rose. Perry went into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee and headed into the bathroom. After showering and shaving, he went back into the bedroom. Then he remembered… there would be no suit laid out for him… no underwear, socks or shoes. He smiled when he thought how the little things Della did for him had become so routine, he simply took them for granted. He would have to remember to show her his appreciation for the way she looked after him both here and in the office.

Mason drank his coffee. He looked around for his briefcase and remembered that it was locked in the safe in his office. He would have to wing it today. He had tried to get back in the Brent Building last night but had not been allowed by the fire department.

Mason drove directly to the hospital. He parked his Cadillac and entered the main lobby doors. Mason stooped at the information desk. He smiled at the young woman that had been assigned there. He did not notice that the woman about melted when the handsome lawyer began speaking.

"Could you tell me what room Della Street is in, please? She was brought in last night in an emergency."

The women then realized who the man was. She knew that he was handsome from pictures she had seen of him in the Los Angeles papers. But they did not do the man justice. His eyes were a gorgeous piercing blue, his voice melodic and the dimples were a killer. She could only imagine what it would be like to have him for a boss. Just to stare at him all day would be worth whatever meager salary his secretary was paid.

"Excuse me," Perry interrupted her thoughts.

"What? Oh, I am sorry, Mr Mason." She hurriedly looked up the room number. "She is in room three twenty-three."

Perry flashed another smile and said, "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Mr. Mason." She smiled back at him and vowed to watch his cases a little closer.

Perry walked straight ahead to the elevator and pressed the button. The elevator opened. He stepped in, pressed the third floor and rode it to Della's floor. Mason strolled down the hall, checking the numbers as he went. When he arrived at Della's room, the nurse was just leaving.

Perry walked into the room. Della was wide awake and looked much better than she had the night before. She smiled as soon as she saw him. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He walked over to her, bent down and kissed her. Della grabbed him behind the neck and pulled him to her. This time the kiss was more passionate.

"No, I did not sleep well at all. I had to sleep alone," she replied.

"So did I," he said.

"You better have," Della said, lowering her eyebrows.

Perry laughed. "If it makes you feel better, I did not sleep well either. In fact no one set out my clothes this morning."

"Oh, you do notice that I do that?"

"It became very noticeable this morning. I actually had to find a suit and a matching tie." He playfully pulled up his pant leg. "Look, I'm not sure my socks match my shoes."

Della laughed. "You did just fine. What did you do before I came along?"

Perry grinned. "I wore brown socks with black shoes."

She smiled at him. "Come here," she said as she reached out for him. He sat down beside her and took her hand. "That was awfully close last night."

"Too close," he agreed.

"What are you going to do, Perry?"

"First, I am going to call Denny Boulder back to the stand and then I am calling every one of those firemen. By the time I am done, I will have created so much reasonable doubt the judge will not bind Seth over for trial. Then I am going to nail every one of those would-be murderers to the wall even if it takes me the rest of my law career."

"I have seen you determined before but what brought on this 'rest of my law career' attitude?"

"They hurt you. That is unacceptable and will not go unpunished." He intertwined their fingers.

"I have been hurt before, you know."

"But this time they came close to succeeding. They will pay for that."

"Promise me something," Della said.

"If I can."

"Be careful."

Perry smiled. "I am always careful."

"No, you are not. Not even close by my standards."

"I seem to recall you take a few chances yourself."

"Only when I am with you. I always feel safe with you. Even in the fire, I knew you would get us out of there," Della said.

"I didn't. Paul got us out of there."

"But you had the insight to choose Paul as a friend. He would do anything to protect us. So indirectly you did get us out of there."

"Hmmmm, I like that kind of thinking. It could come in handy later on."

"Don't try it, Mr. Mason," she warned him with a smile.

He chuckled. "Then that kind of thinking is exclusive only to you?"

"That's right, Counselor."

"If I use it, you will not be able to take me to task anyway."

"And why not?"

"Because by you logic, if I used it, it is because I chose you as my lover so therefore it would be your fault." Perry grinned.

"No, that would not work."

Perry frowned. "And why not?"

"Because, you did not choose me as your lover, I chose you. Therefore it would be your fault."

Pretending to be confused, he said, "Maybe we should go back to the part where I get the credit and not the blame. I like that much better."

Della laughed. "Don't you have to be in court shortly?"

"In about forty-five minutes."

"You better go, Perry."

"It won't be the same without you there beside me," he all but whispered.

"What did you do before I came along?"

"Shuffled through my paperwork and held up the court proceedings until I found the one I needed."

Della chuckled. "No wonder the judges are so nice to me." She looked at him. He seemed reluctant to go. "You are going to be late, Perry."

"I'll be back tonight."

"They will probably release me today."

"Then I won't have to sleep alone." He smiled and kissed her hand. "Until tonight." He bent down and kissed her. Perry stood up and turned to leave. He was still holding her hand as he walked away. Perry let go only when the distance between them demanded it. The lawyer looked back and smiled before he went through the door.

15.4

Denny Boulder knocked on the door. Within seconds the door opened. Brad Stout stood there bare-chested rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "What are you doing here? It better be because you have found out where the information on our accounts is and who took it." He backed away to give Boulder entrance into his apartment.

"I have found out who took it and I have located the paperwork."

Stout turned around quickly and said, "Who did it and where is the paperwork?"

"Bert Fielder broke into your apartment and stole the envelope you kept it in."

"Why that dirty conniving little weasel. Where's the paperwork?"

Boulder looked away from Stout. "By now... in the hands of Perry Mason, I am afraid."

"What? How the hell did he get it?" Stout shouted.

"We gave it to him."

"You what? Have you lost your mind? Do you know what he will do with that? Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison? You better start explaining and right now."

"It cannot be tied to us, Brad. Remember, there was never any money transferred to an account in our names. The other guys have paid someone to cover up the transfers but they are still going to have to explain the money in their accounts. Sooner or later the authorities are going to find out that their deposits came from that account. When they do, they will arrest all of them. Oh, they will try and point a finger at the two of us but there will be no evidence to prove it."

"What about our money? The other guys have their cut but what about us? We will not be able to touch the money in that account."

"There isn't any money in the account. Fielder had the money transferred into an account in his name."

Stout sat down in a nearby chair. "Can we get to it?"

"The records that I sent Mason do not show where the funds were transferred to. I made sure of that. It only lists that the account was in Bert's name. I have a friend who can hack into the account and transfer the funds to a Swiss bank account. He can make it look like our money was transferred to five or six accounts. He will boggle up the transfers to make sure it takes the cops a long time to figure out where the money ended up. By that time we will have moved it right back here in the United States. We can withdraw the money and leave the country."

"Why not just transfer it to a Swiss account and pick it up there?"

"Because they will be expecting us to send it to a Swiss account. But they won't think in a million years we would send it right back here."

"When can we get started?"

"Later tonight."

"Alright, let's do it. Why were the records sent to a dead man?" Brad said sarcastically.

"Somehow, Mason got his secretary and himself out of that building. I swear, I locked that door myself. Monte was in the building across the street with a rifle with a sight on it. He made sure that Mason and Street could not use the balcony for fresh air."

"Then how did they get out?"

"We don't know. All we know is Street is in the hospital and Mason is fine."

"So how many times have we botched killing him?"

"I tell you the man has nine lives. Besides you missed him too. You should have killed him in his apartment."

Stout groaned. "Don't remind me. My shoulder is still killing me."

"What about Fielder? That jerk should pay for this."

"He has paid. With his life. He died last night in a fire."

"What is to stop the others from fingering you for his murder or for the attempt on Mason?"

"I have that covered. When I sent the information to Mason I signed the letter. I have their bank statements on all the money they received. I also have the blackmail letters they received from Jacoby. I kept them. When I did the duty rosters, I made sure that each one of them was in the areas where the fires spread and I made damn good **and** sure I was not. It is all recorded. Also I made sure there was a witness to Monte dropping off Bert in that paint warehouse tonight. I also have three buddies of mine who will testify they overheard them planning on blaming me for what they have done. I suggest you arrange some alibis of your own."

"Just one last question. Who actually killed Jacoby?"

"For the longest time I thought you did. But after what happened lately it was either Bert or Monte."

"Monte? Why would he frame his best friend?"

"Put yourself in his place. Who would you rather see go to jail for murder... your best friend or yourself? Seth Palmer was perfect to frame since it was his gun that was the murder weapon. He fought with Jacoby and was found standing over his dead body. Monte could easily frame him. He could have gotten a hold of his gun."

"But Fielder had more the temperament for murder," Stout argued.

"I don't argue that but Monte had a better opportunity. Whichever one of them did it did us a favor. Jacoby would have bled us blind. Anyway I have to get to court."

"Just be cool and don't let Mason shake you up. We are just about home free."

"Don't worry, I can handle Mason. I'll see you tonight, here."

15.5

Mason entered his office and opened the safe. He pulled out his briefcase, locked the safe and headed back out.

Gertie walked into the office. "I thought I heard you come in. This place is a mess. How's Miss Street?"

Mason smiled. "She is going to be just fine. I have to get to court. I will see you later."

There was a knock on Mason's new door. He opened it and Paul Drake came in. "Perry, you better take a look at this before you cross-examine Denny Boulder."

Perry looked at the envelope Paul had in his hand. He knew he had seen it before. He also knew he was going to be late for court.


	16. Chapter 16

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 16

16.1

Judge Coleson was losing his patience. Court proceedings should have started forty-five minutes ago. He did not like attorneys holding up his courtroom, even if the lawyer in question was the famous Perry Mason. "Bailiff, has Mr. Mason called in to explain his tardiness?"

"I don't know, Your Honor, but I will certainly check." The bailiff disappeared into the room next to the judge's chambers.

"Your Honor, the prosecution has other cases in other courts that we are also trying. If Mr. Mason can't see his way to call this court to explain his absence then we would like..." Burger was interrupted by Judge Coleson.

"Save the dramatic statements for Mr. Mason's benefit, Mr. Burger. We are checking on him now."

Burger sat down as the bailiff returned to the courtroom. "Your Honor, Mr. Mason has now arrived at the courthouse."

The door at the back of the courtroom opened and Perry Mason came in with Paul Drake. He walked swiftly to the front of the room and took his place beside Seth Palmer.

"Mr. Mason, I am assuming you have an explanation for holding this court up for nearly an hour. I do not appreciate tardiness. Counsel is expected to observe the rules of this court and that includes being here at the scheduled starting time." Coleson stared at the attorney as he reprimanded him.

"I apologize, Your Honor. Unfortunately it could not be helped. New evidence has come to my attention and in order to cross examine the prosecution's witness, a couple things had to be verified. I beg the court's indulgence." Mason waited for the judge, hoping he had smoothed some ruffled feathers.

"Very well, Mr. Mason. Mr. Denny Boulder, return to the stand."

Boulder walked past the spectators, entered the gate and sat down in the witness stand.

"Mr. Boulder, I will remind you that you are still under oath," Judge Coleson told the witness."

"Yes, Your Honor." Boulder watched Perry Mason approach him. He braced for the lawyer's assault.

"Mr. Boulder, you told this court that you found a paper on the floor indicating that Ted Jacoby was blackmailing the defendant. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir, that is correct."

"Was that the only blackmail letter that you found?" Mason asked.

"Yes," Boulder answered.

"There were not... say, one for every fireman at the station?"

Boulder frowned. He would have to be careful. There was no doubt that Mason would try to trip him up. All he had to do was keep his cool and he and Brad would be able to collect the money. "Now that you mention it, yes, I had forgotten about the others," he lied.

Mason walked back to the defense table. He opened his briefcase and started rifling through his papers.

Judge Coleson watched the lawyer for a moment and then noticed Della Street was not in court beside Mason. "Mr. Mason?"

"One moment, Your Honor." Mason located what he was looking for.

"I hope Miss Street has not quit her job. This court could not afford the delays," he said with a smile.

"No, Your Honor. Miss Street will be back in court in a few days" Perry said.

"In the meantime you may continue."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Perry walked back to the witness stand. "Mr. Boulder, were you aware that Ted Jacoby was blackmailing the other firemen at your station?"

Hamilton Burger was up on his feet. "Objection! Mr. Mason is putting the victim on trial. This is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It was not covered in the prosecution's examination. Mr. Mason can call Mr. Boulder as a defense witness if he wants to pursue this line of questioning."

"Your Honor, the prosecution contends that my client killed Jacoby. The defense intends to show that more than one individual had motive and opportunity to kill him."

The judge thought for a moment. "Overruled. Go ahead, Mr. Mason."

"Yes, I was aware of it."

"How did this knowledge come into your possession?" Mason asked.

"After the altercation between Seth Palmer and Ted Jacoby, I took the blackmail letters from Jacoby."

"What did you do with them?"

"I kept them in my possession," Boulder replied.

Mason walked back to the defense table. He picked up the letters and returned to the witness stand. "Are these the blackmail letters?"

"Yes, sir, they are." Boulder handed the letters back to Mason.

"Can you tell the court who they are addressed to?"

"Bert Fielder, Monte Skinner, Marcus Shepherd and Mitch Donaldson."

"Please read them to the court," Mason asked.

Marcus leaned over and whispered to Monte, "How did Mason get a hold of those blackmail letters?"

Monte responded, "There is only one way he could have gotten a hold of them. Denny must've given them to him."

"The son of a bitch is going to hang us out to dry," Marcus said.

"I don't get it," said Mitch. "He was in this from the beginning. If he implicates us, he implicates himself as well."

Monte shook his head. "No, he does not. If I recall that paper did not show any deposits into an account in Denny's name."

"Then what happened with his share of the money?" Mitch asked.

"I don't know," Monte said.

"Your Honor, I would like these blackmail letters entered into evidence as defense exhibit A," Perry Mason requested.

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Your Honor, I must object. We have no way of knowing who wrote those blackmail letters."

Perry looked back at Burger. "Oh, but we do, Mr. Burger. We obtained a sample of Ted Jacoby's handwriting. It was then taken to a handwriting expert, Loren Mahoney. He has testified in court as an expert for the prosecution on many occasions."

Burger knew he was licked. How could he possibly object to a handwriting expert that he himself had used so many times? He walked up to Mason at the witness stand. The defense attorney handed him the blackmail letters. Burger looked them over and checked the handwriting expert's report. "I withdraw my objection."

"The exhibits will be marked defense exhibit A," Judge Coleson ruled. "You may continue, Mr. Mason."

"Mr. Boulder, did you receive one of these blackmail letters?"

"No, sir," lied Denny.

"May I remind you that you are under oath?" Mason asked.

"It is not necessary, sir. I am well aware that I am under oath."

"Then I ask you again, did you receive one of the blackmail letters?" Perry thundered away at the witness.

"Objection, Your Honor. The question has been asked and answered!" Burger shouted.

"Sustained. Move on, Mr. Mason." Coleson warned the attorney.

Perry went back to the defense table. "Mr. Boulder, did any of your fellow firemen tell you about being blackmailed?"

"Yes. All of them told me."

"By all of them you mean Bert Fielder, Marcus Shepherd, Mitch Donaldson, and Monte Skinner. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct," Danny responded.

"So each one of them had a motive for killing Ted Jacoby. Is that correct?"

"Objection! Mr. Mason is asking for an opinion."

"Sustained," ruled the judge.

"Did any of the firemen tell you what they planned to do about the blackmail?" Mason asked.

"They simply said that they would find who was doing it and they would stop him," Boulder answered.

"They did find him and stop him. Isn't that right?"

Hamilton stood up again. "Objection! Mr. Mason is still asking for an opinion."

"Sustained," snapped Coleson.

"I have no further questions for this witness." Mason went back to the defense table and sat down.

"I have a question on re-direct," said Burger. "Mr. Boulder, Mr. Mason has made a big deal regarding the opportunity of the other firemen to kill Ted Jacoby but it was the defendant that you found standing over the body with the murder weapon in his hand. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"No further questions."

"I have a couple questions on re-cross," said Mason as he walked back to the witness stand. "Mr. Boulder, can you tell the court where the other firemen were assigned in the Claymore apartment complex on the night of the murder?"

Burger stood up. "Objection! This was not covered on direct examination."

"Mr. Burger opened the door with that last question," insisted Mason.

"Overruled."

"Mr. Boulder?" Mason prompted him.

"All of the men from my station were assigned to the same floor."

"Then all of them were close to the area where Jacoby was murdered?"

"That is correct," Boulder answered.

"When you arrived at the scene, were you alone?"

"No, Marcus and Bert were with me."

"Then you all entered the scene together?"

"We came separately. But we all got there about the same time."

"Did the defendant seem dazed when you arrived?" Mason asked.

"In fact, he did seem dazed."

"From which direction did you arrive there?" Mason asked.

"I came down the length of the hall from the south."

"In another words the murder took place at the far end of the hall. Is that correct?"

"That is absolutely correct."

"There were stairs at the end of the hall where the murder took place. Correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason, that is correct."

"Mr. Boulder, would it have been possible for someone to come up those stairs, kill Jacoby and then leave by those same stairs without being seen?"

Denny thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe that would have been possible."

Mason smiled. "Thank you. No further questions."

Hamilton Burger stood up. "The people call Marcus Shepherd to the stand." Shepherd testified much the same as Boulder on the fight between Jacoby and Palmer as well as what he saw at the murder scene. Hamilton Burger then rested the prosecution's case. "Having proven motive and opportunity, we ask that the defendant be bound over for trial on the charge of first-degree murder."

"Just a moment, Mr. Burger. Mr. Mason, do you intend to present a defense?"

"I do indeed, Your Honor," Mason answered.

"Court will recess for lunch until two o'clock at which time the defense will present their case." Coleson banged the gavel on the bench and disappeared into his chambers.

Mason looked around for Drake. He was nowhere in sight. He picked up his briefcase and headed out of the courtroom. He looked around the hall and still could not spot Paul.

Perry retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, dialed the hospital and asked for Della's room. He waited for an answer.

"Hello," Della said.

"Hello, baby," Perry responded.

"Perry! How is court going?" she asked.

"We scored a few points but the real show begins after lunch. Has the doctor been in this morning?"

"Yes. He has released me. I asked him if I could stay until you get out of court this afternoon. You can pick me up, can't you?"

"Of course I can. I'll be there as soon as court adjourns."

"Alright, I see you this afternoon. Any chance a girl can get a handsome gentleman to take her to dinner?"

"I don't know but I'll check with Paul."

Della laughed. "I'll see you this afternoon. I love you, Perry."

"I love you, too. And handsome or not, I would love to take you to dinner. Goodbye, Della."

"Goodbye, Perry."

16.2

Paul Drake entered the restaurant. He looked around the room. Over in the corner sat the man he was looking for. Paul made his way through the crowded restaurant. He pulled out a chair beside the lawyer.

Perry looked up. "Where did you disappear to?"

"One of my men discovered something I think you will find very interesting." Paul pulled a paper out of his pocket and gave it to Perry.

"Are we sure about this?"

"Yeah, we are sure."

"This changes my strategy. I wondered why Fielder was not in court today. You say he was found at the Morgan Paint Company fire?"

"That is right, Perry."

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Okay, good work, Paul. This will help us nail all of them."

"I don't see how you are going to nail Boulder and Stout. They can't be tied to the insurance scam. No money went into their accounts."

"Right now I have to concentrate on nailing the killer. Then we go after the rest of them. One step at a time, Paul. Let's get back to court."

"But, I have not had any lunch," Paul protested.

"No time. We are due back in court in ten minutes." Perry threw enough money on the table to cover both his lunch and a tip. He slapped Paul on the back. "Let's go."

"When is Della getting out of the hospital?" Paul asked.

"After I get out of court. I am picking her up. Why?"

"Why? Because she would never let me go without lunch."

Perry laughed. "Come on, Paul, or I am going to be late."

The two men walked across the street and entered the courthouse. A man approached them. Paul introduced his detective to Perry. "What have you got for us?"

"I have traced the name on the account that has been distributing the funds. Your source was telling the truth, Paul, and Mr. Mason's hunch paid off. Bert Fielder's name was added to the account only recently by an illegal entry through the computer system."

"Did they trace where the entry came from?" Mason asked.

"Right here in Los Angeles, the library," answered Drake's man.

"That will be hard to trace, Perry. They don't use cameras. They have a sign-in sheet and that is about it. You can bet Boulder or Stout did not use their real names."

"You're probably right, Paul, so here's what I want you to do. Obtain pictures of both Boulder and Stout. Show them to the people that were working the day that that name was changed on the account. Let's see if any of them recognize one or the other."

"What are you going to do in court today?" Paul asked Mason as Paul's man handed Perry the rest of the paperwork.

"There are some other things in that report you should take a look at, Mr. Mason," Paul's detective said.

Perry took the report from him and then said to Paul, "Catch a killer. That is what I am going to do. See you later." Mason turned away from Drake and entered the courtroom.

"All rise," the bailiff called out as Judge Coleson entered the courtroom and took his place behind the bench.

"Mr. Mason, call your first witness," the judge said.

"The defense calls Marcus Shepherd to the stand." As soon as Shepherd was sworn in, Perry Mason approached the witness. "Mr. Shepherd, you're employed by the Los Angeles fire department, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you on duty the night of the murder?" Mason asked.

"Yes, I was."

"Were you assigned to the same floor the murder took place?"

"Yes."

"Who was your partner that night?"

"Mitch Donaldson," Marcus answered.

"Tell the court how that works. When you are with a partner do you separate from him for any reason?"

"No, you never separate from your partner."

"Never, Mr. Shepherd?"

"That's what I said," Marcus said, agitated.

"Then please explain to the court why you showed up to the murder scene without Mitch Donaldson." Mason raised his voice.

"Well … I … went looking for Denny. Neither Seth nor Ted was answering our communications. Denny was worried about them. So he went to check on them."

"Firemen have a communication system then?" Mason inquired.

"Yes, it is much like the system the secret service uses to protect the president of the United States."

"Why did you not use it to contact Denny Boulder?"

"Well … I … just decided to check for myself."

"But you said partners never split up."

"They don't." Shepherd was showing signs of discomfort.

"But you obviously did. So you broke standard procedure?"

"I thought Denny might need some help."

"Why didn't you use your communication system?" Mason pressed.

"Because I didn't," snapped Shepherd.

"How long after Mr. Boulder left did you join him?"

"Just a matter of minutes."

"How many minutes? Two minutes, ten minutes?"

"Oh, Your Honor, this is ridiculous. I object!" Hamilton Burger complained as he stood up. "All of this is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial. Mr. Mason is going on a fishing expedition. He's wasting the court's time."

"Mr. Mason, I have to agree with the district attorney," the judge said.

"Your Honor, the defense is trying to establish that someone other than the defendant could have killed Ted Jacoby," Mason responded. "We will also connect this with motive."

"Well, you certainly are taking your time. Get to the point, Counselor," Coleson demanded.

"Yes, Your Honor." Mason walked back to his defense table. He picked up one of the reports when another one that Paul's detective had just given him caught his eye. He hurriedly read through it.

"Mr. Mason?" the judge called out impatiently.

"May I have a moment, please, Your Honor?"

"Only a moment, Mr. Mason," Coleson answered.

Perry continued to read the report. When he finished, he refrained from smiling. Rifling through his papers, he found the report he was looking for.

"Mr. Mason, your moment is up. Please continue."

"Yes, Your Honor." He headed back to the witness stand. "Now, you stated that you left your post a few minutes after Mr. Boulder went looking for Mr. Jacoby. Is that correct?"

Marcus Shepherd snarled back at Mason. "Yes, how many times do I have to answer your questions for you to get it?"

As Mason started to say something, Judge Coleson interrupted him. "The witness will refrain from making comments and answer only the questions the defense attorney asks."

"I am sorry, Your Honor, but you don't know what this shyster has put all of us through since... "

"That is enough, Mr. Shepherd. One more comment like that and I will hold you in contempt of court," Coleson warned.

Shepherd said nothing further but shot Perry Mason a look of disdain which the lawyer ignored.

"Are you sure the time between when Mr. Boulder left and when you followed him was a matter of minutes? Could it not be possible that you actually left before Mr. Boulder?"

Shepherd shook his head in disgust. "No, Mason, it is not possible. I told you I left after Denny. It was not more than five minutes."

"Then will you please explain to this court why Mrs. Nora Robertson, one floor below and right next to the staircase, told one of Mr. Paul Drake's detectives that you were seen standing on the staircase for twenty minutes at the same time you claimed to be with you partner, Mitch Donaldson?"

A murmur of chatter broke out in the courtroom. "I... that can't...she must...I don't know." Shepherd was perspiring and was clearly shaken by Perry Mason's revelation.

"Could it be that you were not with your partner at all, Mr. Shepherd? Could it be that you were on the staircase listening to the conversation between Seth Palmer and Ted Jacoby? Could it be that you heard Jacoby tell Seth Palmer that he was blackmailing you and your fellow firemen because you were taking money to allow fires to burn down buildings so that the owners could collect the insurance money?" Mason's booming voice echoed in the room.

"No, that is not true! You can't prove a word of it!" Marcus shouted in desperation.

Mason walked to the defense table. After picking up another paper, he went back to the witness stand. He handed the paper to Marcus Shepherd. "Do you recognize that paper, Mr. Shepherd?"

"It is a copy of my bank account. You had no right!" Marcus shouted.

"A court order gave me the right, Mr. Shepherd. There are fifteen entries ranging from two thousand to twenty thousand dollars. Can you tell us where you got that money?"

Shepherd was beginning to feel like a trapped animal. "They are from investments."

"What investments?" Mason boomed.

"That is none of your damn business, Mason."

"Your Honor, I think we have heard enough of this. Mr. Mason is badgering his own witness," Burger complained.

"If the court will indulge me, I intend to connect this up with a motive," Perry pleaded.

"I am going to let Mr. Mason continue, Mr. Burger. If Mr. Shepherd had a motive to kill Ted Jacoby, I think we should listen as Mr. Mason certainly has proven he had the opportunity. The objection is overruled," the judge said. "You may continue, Mr. Mason."

"What investments?" Perry repeated.

"I don't... well... I... don't remember," Shepherd snapped.

"Allow me to refresh your memory," Mason said. He handed Shepherd another piece of paper. "Do you recognize that paper?"

"No," he growled.

"It is an account at the Wells Fargo bank. Does anything strike you as familiar?"

"No, why should it?"

"Because the withdrawals that I have highlighted match the exact amounts and dates that went into your account. Can you explain that, Mr. Shepherd?"

Marcus Shepherd's face turned pale. "I told them you would figure it out. They would not listen. They just kept on taking money and setting fires and letting them burn to the ground."

"Shut up, you fool!" shouted Monte Skinner.

The judge pounded the gavel on the bench. "You will sit down and be quiet or I will hold you in contempt of court." Skinner took his seat without saying another word. "Mr. Shepherd, you have the right to an attorney. You do not have to answer questions that incriminate you."

"I already have. I'll answer his questions," Marcus said.

"Mr. Mason, please continue," Coleson told the lawyer.

"You and your fellow firemen were involved in an insurance scam, is that correct?" Mason inquired.

"Yes. A man by the name of Brad Stout would set up the fires with the owner of the buildings. We would get the call and let the fire burn or in some cases, we helped them along." Shepherd put his head in his hands.

"Was Seth Palmer involved in the scam?" Mason asked.

"No. We all felt that Palmer would not go along with it. Most of the time the fires would be set up when he was not on duty. If he was, then he was kept away from the fire." Shepherd was all but whispering.

"Were you being blackmailed?"

"Yes, Ted Jacoby was blackmailing all of us."

"So you came up those stairs and hit Seth Palmer on the head, knocking him out, killed Ted Jacoby and placed the gun in his hand. Did you not?"

"NO! I was part of the insurance scam but I did not kill Ted. You have to believe me. I did not kill him." Shepherd broke down and started sobbing.

Mason entered the bank records into evidence and then said, "No further questions. Your witness, ."

Burger stood up, stunned. "No questions."

"The defense calls Mitchell Donaldson." Donaldson came forward but took the fifth, refusing to answer any questions.

"The defense calls Doctor George Digby." Dr. Digby testified to the wound on the back of Seth Palmer's head. He told the court that the blow probably came from a blunt instrument to the top of the head. Mason turned the witness over to Hamilton Burger.

"Dr. Digby, isn't it possible that Mr. Palmer suffered the injury while falling, or possibly it was inflicted by Ted Jacoby while fighting back?" Burger asked.

"Anything is possible," Digby answered, causing Burger to smile but it was wiped off his face with the doctor's next statement. "But not likely. You see, the blow was to the top of his head. When a person falls, the injury is typically to the back, side, or front of the head. The nature of the wound suggests that he was hit from above."

"But at a fire, he could have been hit with falling debris, could he not?" Burger countered.

"It is possible but not in this case. I checked with the police and they said he was hit with a blunt object."

"No further questions." He turned to Lieutenant Tragg. "Who told him that?"

"I have no idea," Tragg said.

"The defense calls Monte Skinner." A very hostile Skinner denied any involvement in the insurance scam. He refused to answer any questions regarding the money and how he obtained it. He hid behind the fifth amendment. Hamilton Burger did not cross examine him.

"The defense calls Denny Boulder," Mason said.

After the judge reminded him he was still under oath, Mason approached the stand.

"You heard the testimony of Marcus Shepherd," Perry began. "He testified that you were part of the insurance scam. Were you?"

"No, I was not," Boulder lied. "I had nothing to do with it. I did not know that the guys were being blackmailed until I found the blackmail letters."

"Why would he claim that you were?"

"How would I know? Maybe he was sore because I turned the blackmail letters over to you. I did not receive a dime for setting any fires. You are welcome to check my bank account."

"Mr. Boulder, who was your partner the night of the murder?"

"Monte Skinner."

"Did you know where he was the entire evening?" Mason asked.

"No, there was a lot going on that night. I had sent Monte to check on Ted and Seth. I lost track of him."

"Then you do not have to stay with a partner at all times?"

"No. I am in charge of the operation, Mr. Mason. I sometimes have to make decisions or check different areas of the fire."

"Why was Monte Skinner allowed to roam around the fire floor without a partner? He doesn't have your rank," Mason asked.

"Because I sent him."

"I see. So Mr. Skinner was traveling the floor alone. Mr. Shepherd left his partner, leaving him on his own and you were alone as well. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I would say that is a fair summary of the situation," Boulder agreed.

"Would you also agree that any one of you could have slipped out of sight, knocked Seth Palmer unconscious, killed Ted Jacoby and placed the gun in Palmer's hand?"

"Any one of them but not me. I was with at least one fireman at all times," Boulder said.

"Yes, I noticed that you were never near the main fire at any of the fires in the last year and a half. Is that standard procedure?" Mason inquired.

"No, but I have the discretion to go where I am needed and remember I am the supervisor," Boulder said with a smile on his face. "I have to check on the other guys in case a second alarm needs to be called in."

"That is exactly why I am wondering why you were never anywhere near the main fires. Did you not check on those men as well?"

"Well... I must have... I guess I checked on them through the communication system," Boulder surmised.

"No further questions," Mason said as he headed back to the defense table.

"Mr. Boulder, I would like you to remind this court who was standing over the body with the murder weapon in his hand since Mr. Mason has made every attempt to confuse the issue."

"Seth Palmer was, but Mr. Mason is correct. All of the firemen were in the area of the murder and any one of them could have done it."

"I would like that last remark to be stricken from the record as non-responsive to the question," Burger snapped.

"The last remark will be stricken," Judge Coleson said.

"Mr. Mason?"

"The defense rests," Mason said.

"Your Honor, I believe the prosecution presented enough evidence that we ask the defendant be bound over for trial," Burger requested.

"What is going to happen now, Mr. Mason?" Seth asked his lawyer.

"It is up to the judge whether we go to trial or not," Mason whispered to Palmer.

"The court will take an hour recess while I consider the matter." Coleson got up and left the courtroom.

"Stay here," Mason said to his client. He walked over to Burger and Lt. Tragg. "I wonder if you gentlemen would meet with me right now."

"What about, Perry?" Hamilton asked.

"About this case," Mason answered. He left his client with the bailiff and led Burger and Tragg to a room he had prearranged.

16.3

Everyone rose as Judge Coleson entered the room. "I have given this matter serious thought and there are many aspects to this case that are very troubling. Firstly, we have five firemen that were all being blackmailed by Ted Jacoby. It is apparent that they all had motive to want Mr. Jacoby out of the way. Secondly, all of those individuals can be placed in or around the scene of the murder. Any one of those individuals had motive and opportunity to commit the crime. And lastly, we have the doctor that testified that Mr. Palmer was hit over the head with a blunt instrument, thereby creating the possibility that the gun was planted in his hand. It is the opinion of this court that there is not enough solid evidence to bind the defendant over for trial. Case dismissed. The defendant is hereby released from custody." Coleson banged the gavel and left the courtroom.

"Mr. Mason, I cannot even begin to express my appreciation for all you have done. Just send me the bill and you will be paid promptly."

"Seth, before you go, I want you to think about that day you left that man behind. You were young and it was you first fire. It is normal to panic when faced with a dangerous situation for the first time. I want you to remember the people you have saved from death since. You are a good fireman. Don't let one blot on you record destroy a great career." Mason smiled at his client.

"Thanks, Mr. Mason. I'll think about it but the department may make the decision for me."

"I already talked to the top bosses. They said that was a long time ago. A lot of firemen panic the first time. They said you are a credit to the department and your job is not in jeopardy. So think on it before you do something rash. Look what happened the last time you did."

Palmer smiled at his attorney. "I promise you I won't do anything rash." He put his hand out and Mason shook it.

Hamilton walked over to Perry. "Well, Perry, you did it again... screwed up another of my open-and-shut cases."

Perry grinned. "There is no such thing as an open-and-shut case."

Burger laughed. "Not as long as you are around. You are not considering retiring soon, are you?"

"No, I am having too much fun being a thorn in your side," Perry said, grinning again.

"So what time did you want us to meet you tonight?" Tragg asked.

"I will call you as soon as Paul calls in. Right now I have to pick up Della." Mason finished putting his papers in his briefcase and walked out of the courtroom with Burger and Tragg.


	17. Chapter 17

The Case of the Neglectful Fireman

Chapter 17

17.1

Perry Mason arrived at the hospital at six o'clock. He took the elevator to Della's floor. She was up and dressed. Perry stood in the doorway watching her read the paper. The evening edition had just come out. The headline on the front page read, 'PERRY MASON WINS ANOTHER ONE!' Perry figured Della was reading the article that probably continued on another page. Mason leaned on the doorway, crossed his arms across his massive chest and said, "Why do you bother to read that paper when you can get it right from the horse's mouth?"

Della smiled. "Because the horse was out running around somewhere. Congratulations, counselor. I am sorry I missed it."

Perry closed the distance between them as Della got up from the chair and walked toward him. "I want you to know the judge was concerned about you."

"Really? Why is that?" Della said with a teasing look in her hazel eyes.

"Because he thought I took too long locating my paperwork. He was afraid you quit your job."

Della chuckled. She closed the remaining distance between them. "But you are not afraid I'll quit my job?"

"Nope." He put his arms around Della. Her one arm was in a sling, a painful reminder to Perry of that fire and his inability to protect her. Thank god Paul had arrived when he did. "You are too addicted to the fringe benefits."

Della looked up at her playful lawyer. "You mean the long hours, the lack of sleep, being shot at, battling forest fires and landing in the hospital."

"No, that is the adventurous part of the job. And that was not a forest fire, Smokey. No, I was talking about fringe benefits." Perry smiled, lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. "This is a fringe benefit. You don't think I extend this kind of benefits to Gertie, do you?"

Della chuckled. "You better not, not if you know what is good for you." Della took his lower lip between hers. It had the intended effect as Perry kissed her again.

A man behind them cleared his throat. Perry and Della separated. "I am sorry, I did not mean to intrude." It was the same doctor who had treated Della the night before.

"I assume I can take Miss Street home," Perry said.

"Yes, I have the discharge papers right here." He lifted his hand indicating the papers he held there. He walked over to the couple. "I am giving you a prescription for pain, Miss Street. You should take it easy for a few days. If you will sign the discharge papers, Mr. Mason can take you home. Oh, your secret is safe with me."

Della turned red but took the papers and pen from the doctor. Perry turned around, stooped down, allowing Della to use his shoulder as a surface to use to sign the discharge papers. Once she had, Della handed them back to the doctor.

"You may take her home, Mr. Mason." The doctor turned to leave and then turned back to them. "Congratulations on getting the charges against your client dropped, Mr. Mason." He left Della's room.

"Well, you wanted a handsome gentleman to take you to dinner but Paul was not available. He is running down something for me. Would you settle for a big lawyer?"

Della smiled. "I will settle for a big, handsome lawyer."

"Hmmmm... I will check and see if Hamilton is available. Wait, that won't work. Hamilton is married."

Della ran her hand down Perry's face. "Hamilton Burger is not what I consider a big, handsome lawyer. I will settle for this big, handsome lawyer."

Perry once again kissed her. "Then let's go to dinner." Perry took her elbow and led Della out of the hospital room.

17.2

"Alright, Denny. Mason was served up a killer, now what? How do we get the money?" Brad Stout asked.

"I have changed my mind, Brad. I don't think we should do anything right now. That money is too hot." Denny Boulder turned and looked into the eyes of his partner in the fires. "We have to wait and make sure Mason takes the bait. If he does then we can move forward. I just think it would be a bad time right now. If Mason doesn't believe that Monte killed Ted then he might have Drake keeping an eye on that money. We could be walking into a trap. Right now they can't tie either of us to the fires or the murders of Ted or Bert. No, we have to lay low for a while. We will go after the money when it is safe to do so."

Stout grabbed Boulder with both hands. "Are you trying to run off with all the money?"

Boulder tried to remove Stout's hands. "Let go of me, Brad. I am not trying to cheat you out of anything! The timing is wrong. We are home free. They have nothing on us. If we move too soon, we might implicate ourselves in the fires and the murders."

"You fool! Just how long do you think that money is going to be sitting there? If we don't take it, it will be moved."

"No, I don't think so. The insurance companies are going to be suing for that money and the money the other guys have in their accounts. It will be tied up in court for a while. The owners of the buildings are going to claim that they knew nothing about what we were up to. By the time everything is all sorted out, you and I will have moved the money. I just don't think we should do it right now."

"You are a fool. Don't you realize if what you say is true, we have to move that money right now before the funds are frozen," Brad insisted.

"Don't worry about that. If they freeze it, we can still get to it. It is a piece of cake for my man. Quit worrying." Denny continued to try to pry Brad Stout's hands from his jacket.

"I want the money now, Boulder. I cannot afford to have the police or worse, Perry Mason, looking into my past. I have to get out of Los Angeles and I have to do it now. So I will tell you what you are going to do." Stout let go of Boulder. He took a step back and pulled a gun from his waist.

"Are you crazy? What the hell is that for?" Denny cried.

"I don't trust you, Denny. I am not about to let you take that money while I am not looking."

"Come on, Brad, we have been in this together from the beginning. I have been straight with you from day one. You have no reason not to trust me."

"Money, Denny, baby. That is all the reason I need."

"Why don't you want the police checking into your background? So you were the one that killed Ted. He was blackmailing you too, wasn't he?"

"So what if he was?" Stout said. "He got what he deserved. The blackmailing little weasel."

"So what are you going to do to me?" Denny asked.

"Good grief, Denny, what kind of guy do you think I am? We worked together for a long time. We made a lot of money together. We will again. Just as soon as you get settled in a new city, we set up shop again. I have no intention of hurting you. I just want my money." Stout lowered his weapon.

Boulder relaxed. "Good god, you scared the crap out of me, buddy. Look, my friend's name is Ken Cutter. He lives in my apartment building. He is the one that is going to hack into the bank. He has done it before. How the hell do you think I got the money to go to school? We will do this just as soon as it is safe to. I promise you will get every penny of your money. And just for all the trouble I caused you I will give you ten percent of my take."

"That is very generous of you, Denny. But it is not enough." Stout raised his gun and shot Denny Boulder in the forehead. "Fool, you should not have told me who is going to hack into the bank." Stout walked out of his apartment. There was nothing he wanted in it anyway. By the time the police found Boulder's body he would be on his way out of the country.

17.3

Della looked over the table at Perry. "Didn't you have anything to eat today?"

"I had lunch across the street from the courthouse, why?"

"Because you are not eating your dinner, you are inhaling it," Della observed.

"I guess I am just hungry. Besides, I may need the energy for later on."

"For what?"

Perry realized that he had just made a big mistake. Della was not going to leave him alone until he told her. "Nothing you need to worry about. You are going back to my place and resting, just like the doctor ordered."

"Perry..." Della said as she sat back in her chair.

Perry looked at her. "Della, you cannot go. You are not up to it."

"That is for me to decide."

"Della, I don't normally try to restrict you when it comes to my cases but you were shot in case it has escaped your attention."

Della thought she better take another tack with Perry. She could tell he was beginning to dig in his heels. "I know you are concerned about me and I appreciate it. In fact, I love you for it but you have said many times that I am not just your secretary but your partner."

Perry knew where this was going. He shook his head. "The doctor said..."

"I know what the doctor said, Perry. I was there, remember?"

"Then you know what you should be doing is resting."

"What does resting have to do with you bringing me up to date in what you are up to?" Della asked.

Before Perry could answer her, Paul Drake approached their table. "Is this just a dinner for two?" he asked.

"Have a seat Paul," Perry said. He signaled the waiter to bring over another menu. After taking Paul's order, the waiter disappeared.

Paul took Della's hand and kissed her cheek. "You look much better than the last time I saw you, Beautiful. You will have to forgive me for not visiting you at the hospital but Perry would not leave your side so that I could come in and today he has been keeping me busy. I am happy to see you are out and about." Paul squeezed her hand.

"It is alright, Paul. Perry let me know you were there. Now maybe you can tell me what you and Perry are up too. I can't get anything out of him." Della looked directly into the private detective's eyes.

"Look, Della. If Perry said you should stay out of this, this one time, I have to agree with him. We are going to nail the real killer of Ted Jacoby."

"I want to come along," Della said.

"No!" said Paul and Perry at the same time. Della looked down. It was obvious she was not happy but she knew she could not fight both of them and Perry was her boss.

Perry watched Della. He knew what she was thinking. He was not as sure of his own actions though. Was what happened in their office clouding his judgement? Was his inability to protect Della the reason he would not allow her to come along? No, the doctor said she should rest. She had been through a trauma that had sent her into shock. He was not being overprotective, she needed to follow the doctor's orders.

Della was silent through the rest of their dinner. Paul informed Perry what he had found out. Both men glanced back at Della occasionally.

"Paul, pick me up at my apartment. I will drop Della off there." Paul left the table. Perry paid the check and left the tip on the table. He helped Della up, took her elbow and led her out of the restaurant. After opening the door of his Cadillac, Della got in. Perry went around and got behind the wheel. He started the car and pulled it into the street.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

"What is there to say? Your mind is made up." Della looked straight out the window.

"Della, I don't know why coming along on this is so important to you. There have been many dangerous situations that I have not allowed you to come along and that was when you were at one hundred per cent. You have been in the hospital. If the situation was reversed, wouldn't you insist that I not go?"

"Yes, but you would go anyway," Della said.

Perry was silent for a moment. "I don't know what to say to that."

Della smiled. "Because I am right."

"Yes, you are but this is different. Please, Della, do as I ask. I don't think you are up to it this time." Perry reached for her hand. He had expected her to pull away from him and was surprised when she did not.

"Alright, Perry, you win. I will wait at your apartment."

"Thank you. It really is best, Della. I don't want to have to worry about you." Perry pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building. "I'll see you to my apartment."

"I know where it is. I have been there many times. In fact, I stay there more than I do my apartment," she smiled. "I can make it there by myself. Really, Perry. You go with Paul. Hurry back." She leaned over and kissed him.

"Are you sure?" Perry asked.

"I am sure. Paul is waiting." She kissed him again and got out of the car.

Perry got out of the car and walked around the vehicle. "I will feel better if I make sure you are inside the building." Della smiled and took Perry's arm. He walked her to the door, used his key to open the door, kissed her one more time and then got into Paul's sports car. Della watched as Paul drove the car out of the parking garage.

She felt something pressed into her back. "Just behave yourself, Miss Street and you will not be harmed," the fireman said. "We are going for a ride. My car is just outside."

17.4

Paul looked over at Perry in the passenger seat. "She gave you a pretty hard time, huh?"

"Actually, after we talked in the car, she was okay with it," Perry said.

Paul's car phone rang. Paul picked it up. "Drake." He listened for a moment and said, "I'll tell Perry." Drake slammed the phone. "He doubled crossed us, Perry. He ditched his tail."

"The police lost him!" Perry could not believe it. "Damn it! They should have taken him there instead of letting him go on his own."

"They did not want Stout and Boulder spotting the police. Lt. Tragg was not very happy. He will meet us at his office. He thinks you will want to call it off. Tragg doesn't think he will go anywhere near there tonight."

"I think he will, Paul. He knows we want to nail the real killer. He will meet with Boulder and Stout tonight. We are not calling it off. It is a good thing we did not tell him where this was going to take place."

"He won't be meeting with Boulder. He's dead. Tragg said someone called the police about two men who were arguing very loudly. Lt. Anderson took the call because he was in the area when the complaint came through. Turned out it was Brad Stout's apartment. He found Denny Boulder. He was dead... shot in the head."

"Stout doesn't want to share the wealth," Perry said.

"Apparently not," Paul agreed.

"Let's get to Tragg's office," Perry said.

17.5

Brad Stout knocked on the door of Ken Cutter's apartment. A moment later the door opened. "Who are you?" Cutter asked.

"Brad Stout."

"Oh yeah, come in, Mr. Stout." Cutter stepped back to allow him to enter. "Where's Denny?"

"He will be along soon," Stout said.

The door opened and Bert Fielder walked in. "Hi, Brad."

Stout smiled. "Took you long enough to shake the police, Bert."

"Actually, it took no time at all. Those morons believed everything I told them just like you said they would."

"It was a good thing I was outside that back door of that paint company the night of that fire."

"And having the police discover me there was brilliant. They allowed the rest of the firemen to think I was dead. They were stupid enough to think that I would help them catch you and Denny. Mason is not so smart after all. He thinks Denny killed Ted."

Brad laughed. "Boulder thought I did it."

"We got away with it just like you said we would. So let's get this money transferred. I have a private jet waiting for us."

"Do you think they will ever figure out that you killed Ted Jacoby?" Brad asked.

"The cops are too stupid and Mason never had a clue. Some lawyer he is! He got lucky because the rest of the guys could not keep their mouths shut.

"Now, Mr. Cutter, you are going to transfer that money right now," he said pulling and pointing the gun at the man.

"Look, I don't want to get involved in murder," Cutter said.

"If you don't transfer that money right now, you will be involved in a murder... your own. Now sit down and transfer it, now!" Stout said.

Cutter sat down, hacked into the bank's site and began the transfer. When it was completed, Cutter turned around and said, "It is done. The money is in the Swiss account."

"Very good, Mr. Cutter. You will have to forgive us if we can't leave any loose ends." Brad lifted the gun and pointed it at Cutter.

Doors on both sides of the room burst open. Lt. Tragg came out of one door followed by Hamilton Burger, Perry Mason and Paul Drake. Lt. Anderson came out the other one with two other police officers. The main door to the apartment opened and three more police officers entered the room.

"I suggest that you drop that gun, Mr. Stout. Otherwise, my men are going to shoot you. Now drop the gun," Tragg said with his own service revolver pointed at Stout.

Stout dropped the gun. Two officers went to each man and cuffed them. They brought them forward to Tragg and Burger.

"How did you figure it out?" Stout asked.

"I'll let Mr. Mason tell you since he is the one who figured it out," Tragg said. "Perry..."

"I knew one of you had to have killed Jacoby. It became a process of elimination. Donaldson could have done it but we could account for his time. He would not have had much time to get back down the hall to meet with Boulder. Monte Skinner's time was unaccounted for so he remained a suspect right up to the end. But he was eliminated when one of the cameras caught him on video. He was not close enough to the murder scene to have been able to have committed the murder. Shepherd, as we know, was just below the murder scene but he never went up those stairs. What he did do was block Nora Robertson's view of the staircase. Mr. Fielder slipped past Shepherd, went up the stairs and hit Seth Palmer over the head with the gun that he had stolen out of Palmer's house. We convinced Lt. Tragg to go to Seth's apartment and dust for prints. Mr. Fielder's prints were found where the gun had been kept. You then killed Ted Jacoby and planned his gun in his hand setting up the perfect frame or so you thought.

"Mr. Stout gave away his involvement when he convinced you, Mr. Fielder, to allow yourself to be discovered at the scene of the fire at the paint company. We found your fireman's hat in an area that the fire had destroyed. But the fire was stopped before it reached the door where Mr. Stout had dragged you out of the building. Your shoes left shoe polish on the floor. You were in the line of that fire. Boulder did not know that you had been working with Mr. Stout. Marcus Shepherd revealed to us that Monte Skinner had placed you in the path of the fire per Boulder's orders. Stout convinced you that you would be able to find out if we were on to you.

"Mr. Stout was seen and identified by the drunk that had wandered into the building. We kept it quiet that he survived the fire, at least long enough to identify Brad Stout. He was burned badly and died later.

"That told us that you two were working together. You, Mr. Fielder, knew that you were already implicated in the insurance scams because of the money that went into your account so you decided to cooperate with Stout."

"And you said Mason did not have a clue," Stout snarled.

Hamilton Burger stepped forward. "Well, that about wraps up this case. Thanks for your help in breaking this case, Perry. I promise you all of these firemen will go to trial."

Bert Fielder began laughing hysterically. "I hated you, Mason, from the first time I met you. I am just sorry that I missed you with that fire truck. It would have ended our problems immediately." He looked at Stout. "And you should have taken him out when you went into his apartment."

"Shut up, you idiot," Stout said.

"I am sure that gun will show that it fired the shots into Mr. Mason's pillow and killed Denny Boulder," Lt. Tragg said.

"What difference does it make now?" Stout complained.

Fielder began laughing again. "I get the last laugh."

"Really, Mr. Fielder," Paul Drake said. "Perry has produced enough evidence to put you away for the rest of your life."

Fielder laughed again. "But I will have the satisfaction of taking the thing that means the most to him."

"What are you talking about?" Perry demanded.

"Think about it, Mason. What means the most to you in the whole wide world?" Fielder stopped laughing. "I took it away from you." He looked at Mason with pure hatred.

Panic began to rise. Perry ran to the telephone and dialed his apartment. He waited for an answer he feared would never come... and it didn't. Mason slammed the phone down. He charged Fielder. Perry grabbed him and started shaking him. "Where is she? Where is Della, you bastard?" Mason drew back his fist. Tragg, Drake and Hamilton grabbed Mason and pulled him off Fielder.

"Calm down, Perry! This won't help find Della. We have to concentrate on locating her," Paul said.

Tragg grabbed Fielder. "Come on, you piece of garbage. You are going downtown and you are going to tell us where Della is."

"You will never find her and even if you do, it will be too late," Bert Fielder was laughing as the lieutenant dragged him out the door.

"Perry, we will find Della. You can count on it, pal," Paul said.

"Paul's right, we'll find her," Hamilton said.

Perry looked at his friends. Della, his Della, he should not have left her. Perry walked to the door.

"Where are you going, Perry?" Hamilton asked.

"I am going to find Della... even if I have to tear the entire city apart to do it. Come on, Paul."


End file.
